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Pif Magazine
ISSN: 1094-2726

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Mudlark
Edited by William Slaughter
Reviewed by Tom Hartman


find out more about this zine
find out more about this zine

Mudlark
Edited by William Slaughter
mudlark@unf.edu

Published out of the University of North Florida, Mudlark offers a notable variation on the usual lit 'zine theme. Each issue of this "electronic journal of poetry and poetics" takes the form of an electronic chapbook devoted entirely to the work of a single poet or (less often) essayist.

It is a novel approach but also one that has its disadvantages. If readers are not immediately struck by the style, voice or subject matter of the current featured poet, there's the possibility that they'll click elsewhere in search of something more to their liking. However, it must be said that editor William Slaughter has done a nice job of curating thus far, assembling over the magazine's 5 year history a solid collection of disparate styles and voices. If the current Mudlark fails to strike your fancy, you would be remiss not to surf through a couple of back issues.

The current issue (No. 13) showcases the work of Edward Harkness, whose poems, presented here under the title "A NOTE TO MY SONS," are culled from his forthcoming collection Saying the Necessary (Pleasure Boat Studio).

Marked by short, tight lines, simple diction and a strong flair for narrative, Harkness's poems frequently plum the often-bittersweet memories of his childhood in the Pacific Northwest. Subjects include his father's WWII stories ("Flying Fortress: My Father Survives the War"), the death of a boxer during a live TV broadcast ("The Night Kid Paret was Killed on TV"), a Little Leaguer's game-saving catch ("Right Field").

In "Right Field" especially, Harkness reveals his particular gift for succinct but resonant portraiture, as in the following:

a ball began to rise toward deep right center.
No one knew about my appendicitis,
not my mother, and not my coach,
Mr. Glen Bitterbender,
the first grown man I heard utter,
"Jesus, have I got a hard-on."

Harkness's other subject is fatherhood – more specifically, the often overlooked poignant moments one experiences in raising several boys. In "His Night Light," for example, father and son "[rock] on the sea of ragged sleep" where

far off, the beacon burns.
We are nearing land,
the gray country of dawn,
an island where we can
stay just as we are.
We never have to die here.

To his credit, despite the obvious dangers inherent in selecting such highly personal moments as one's subject matter, Harkness mostly avoids lapsing into sentimentality. When he does (and those moments are rare), he quickly retreats to a suitable narrative distance, using careful description and, again, precise portraiture to let the scene at hand speak for itself.

In between issues, Mudlark publishes what Slaughter calls "posters" and "flash poems." Like the issues themselves, "posters" also feature selections from a single poet, only they are much shorter (3 or 4 poems), best described, perhaps, as the electronic equivalent of broadsheets. Anyone who has surfed the Web in search of poetry will find some familiar names among Mudlark's "poster" contributors: Robert Sward, Barry Spacks and Ruth Daigon, to name a few. "Flash poems," on the other hand, are poems that are slated to appear in an upcoming issue but which, according to Slaughter "[feel] like a current event" and are therefore posted immediately.

If all of this takes a bit of getting used to – and first-timers will likely have to surf around to get a feel for the unique format, not to mention Slaughter's terminology – the quality readers will find inside Mudlark more than justifies the effort.


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A graduate of Columbia University and The University of Pennsylvania, life-long New Jerseyan and New York Mets fan, Tom Hartman now lives in Philadelphia where he's an Associate Poetry Editor at Painted Bride Quarterly. Over the years his writing has appeared in numerous publications, including The Philadelphia Inquirer, The Photo Review, City Paper (Philadelphia), and Philadelphia Weekly. When he's not writing he spends far too much time hating the Atlanta Braves.

 

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