TENTH ANNIVERSARY ISSUE: A Tribute
to Guest Editors
“I kind of see the emergence of Beltway Poetry and other
electronic publications such as The Apple Valley Review as
the beginning of a new era in poetry publishing. It was the official
beginning, at least to me, of the digital publishing era in poetry where
poetry reaches more people differently. It hit me when I edited Beltway
because I had a chance to interact with poets I respected who were not
traditional poets seeking prizes and grants and academic accolades.
And then I saw the great and wide (not narrow and insular) response
to their work; it was impressive and important. Beltway and
similar efforts was simply reaching so many more people quickly online
right where they were going at the time.
When I got a poem published in The Apple Valley Review in 2007
and it was actually nominated for a Pushcart Prize, it was clear then
what Beltway had already started: the shop of the traditional
poetry publishing world was closed but there was a new shop open, and
it was efficient, well produced, very literary and flexible, and most
of all, it had changed the poetry world drastically. Where e-zines and
e-journals, and e-anthologies, and other digital manifestations of poetry,
were once not even acknowledged by the insular, elitist world of traditional,
academic poetry, those days ended when publications like Beltway,
The Apple Valley Review, and others emerged. In fact, all one
has to notice is how Poetry Magazine is devoting so much time
and space to its electronic side as evidence of this shift. That in
a nutshell is what the Beltway experience will always be for
me: the moment that poetry, as I had understood it up until that point,
had changed for the better and had taken off its disguise, the one which
made people despise poetry so much and think of it as boring.”
From the Editor:
Brian Gilmore guest edited in 2001, and his issue allowed me to include
writers whose artistic development was influenced by their time in
residence in Washington, DC, even if they no longer live here. I am
indebted to him for opening up my definition of a Washington writer,
and for his continuing support and encouragement of Beltway Poetry
throughout the years since. Brian has been a stalwart champion of
the journal. In addition to his issue, The
Woodshed, he was featured in Beltway in 2001, contributed
an essay on Waring
Cuney to the first literary history issue (The
Memorial Issue), and has poems in several other special themed
Evolving City, Split
This Rock, the Audio
Issue, and the It's
Your Mug Anniversary Issue. I admire his precision of language,
his musicality, and his love of the city of DC, which infuses so much
of his poetry.
A SOLDIER'S STORY
for my father
will not die in Korea.
My children born.
Thousands of colored
men. Dead like ants who
too far for crumbs.
giving hell. Executive Order
9981. This is what could have
been. What wasn’t shall never
meet the man on his grisly turf.
Never meet the rising sun. So many colored
men dying like middle passengers dragged here
by ship. N – Double – A – C-P loud like
locusts. Coast guardsmen Haley
scratch the word. Charles
Rangel Harlem hero. Hell giving
Harry wants to rule the world.
came down to the city of
government, learned to type, got
a good government job: GS-1
or 2. Something to talk over
with gin and lime. I meet a graduate
of Paul Dunbar High. Pretty lady
who spins some tales, writes
like the queen, doesn’t fret
about how it be.
walks behind Charles Drew
good god of blood. Jesse Faucet well-
mannered with word.
Her shorthand is a poem.
Civil service exam freedom train.
Days full of rooms and men.
She dances dark streets where she is
told to stay. Her mother out pounding
buying the bread,
south up north for respect.
Thousands write letters send dollars
for more. No more hot sun
cow milk days. Fields of rice corn
cake break. World bank
like crop share crooks. Trapped
in bricks but give glory to God.
didn’t die in
Korea. I was lucky; My children
born. I was courteous
to the pretty Dunbar woman.
I came to the city, got a good government
job, fell in love with shorthand,
talked about it humbly over gin and lime.
but most of all, I learned how to type.
for amy goodman & alan
best of all
was the back row.
and thelonious monk
allan ginsberg and bernard
malamud are black men
who have given up
to meet marbury
huey p newton
liberated on a technicality
for offing a pig
and how about the rich white
woman who died and left father divine
her entire fortune and gave the judge
a fatal heart attack?
never raise my hand on the back row.
listen to monk.
got the voice and it isn’t
charlton heston parting the red sea.
lays down the law of moses as it came to him in
the great borough of brooklyn:
are charles hamilton houston.
farrakhan is a calypso singing
ellington was the baddest.
remember, i can be white.
understand the exodus
the civil rights movement.
am the back row.
like in the grocery store
i cannot buy alpha bits
or raisin bran or cheerios
i can only buy special k.
monk, he can buy what he wants,
i let him do the talking.
i tell him i am only sitting here
because my father sat here
and his father and his father
and my mother sat here
and her mother and her mother
and when i was a young kid
my best friends in tennis camp
were two jewish boys
they told me their parents had been
civil rights workers in the 60’s.
they are here on
charlie parker, bernard malamud
and allan ginsberg,
we hear from
who think they
clause into ebonics
don’t disappear into
night in 1964;
they made it back home
MAKE IT PLAIN
for my mother
night and good luck...”
my mother laughing at government men.
my father has taken a new job.
w/ folders & documents they are telling my mother
she married karl marx or engels. this is the source
of her chuckling.
my father vladmir lenin. my father, author of the
my mother must have typed it, disseminated
copies to the workers of the world; today, she
would have e-mailed it as an attachment.
but this is 1955, comrade, &
my father’s whole family is trying to
laugh about it too.
they are paul robeson, dubois
langston hughes or dashiell hammett
insisting upon handcuffs rather than
your father karl marx?
they ask all of them. how do you
spell “proletariat?” what brand of
cigarettes did lenin smoke?
mean, he smoked?
i hear he quit cold turkey before he
died. & karl marx, well, comrade, didn’t
he play for the brooklyn dodgers
this is not funny. we know about your father.
a union man, baltimore, maryland; tried to organize a
few things, get people to band together in the workplace
like ants when they see a cracker fall. he reads the
people’s daily world.
father’s a bowler, right? formed a team
& some of you were members & at the bowling
alleys you didn’t keep score, you just said – “nice
my father’s sisters & brothers no longer laugh.
two of my aunts almost lost their jobs
because they could bowl. my father got
interrogated for days because he knew how to
pick up a spare.
& my uncle, a clever man on the lanes, he spent
his two year stint in the army in a kansas mess hall
being spied upon like he was KGB.
they gave my father the documents, the records,
the job. he died w/ those secrets. my father always
liked to bowl. kicked his leg out like earl anthony
on abc’s “wide world of sports” on saturday afternoons.
my mother liked to bowl too. she had a purple ball
and ate the cheap french fries with all that magnificent
heinz ketchup dripping slow.
she couldn’t stop chuckling at.
the government men that day.
october revolutions?; it is
all a bit too serious,
my mother says,
i am sure he never ever played
Brian Gilmore is
a poet, writer, and public interest lawyer. He teaches inthe Clinical
Law Center at the Howard University School of Law. Author of two books
of poems, elvis presley is alive and well and living in harlem,
(Third World Press 1993) and Jungle Nights and Soda Fountain Rags:
Poem for Duke Ellington (Karibu Books 2001), Gilmore is also a
regular columnist with The Progressive Media Project, and contributing
writer for Ebony-Jet online. His blog, "The Gloves Do
Fit," can be found at JD Diversity. He received an Individual Artist
Award from the Maryland State Arts Council in 2001 and 2003; was a Cave
Canem Fellow in 1997; and a Pushcart prize nominee in 2007. Gilmore's
latest poetry manuscript is A George Holiday Rodney King Video.
He lives in Takoma Park, Maryland with his family.
in Volume 11, Number 1, Winter 2010.
more by this author:
Introduction to Vol, 2, No. 4 (Fall 2001)
Gilmore on Waring
Cuney: Memorial Issue
DC Places Issue
Evolving City Issue
Split This Rock Issue
It's Your Mug Anniversary Issue
on Drum & Spear Bookstore: Literary Organizations Issue
Brian Gilmore: Langston Hughes Tribute Issue
Brian Gilmore on May Miller: Poetic Ancestors Issue