Bogg No. 70

by John Elsberg. Bogg. 422 N. Cleveland St. Arlington, VA.22201.

Book Review by

The first thing you gotta know is that if you subscribe to three issues you will get them. Bogg has been around since 1968, which is 32 years, and is probably older then most of the readers of this review and not as old as those who remember that Leon Harvard Owlswald shot Priestadent McKinnedy 37 years ago. And Elsberg himself is a fine poet, with a horizon vaster than most - he writes short poems and does visual poems and etc. Who among this crowd can say they will be in the business in 30 years!! Christ!! Elsberg’s Bogg is in the tradition of The Wormwood Review and The Outsider. Consistently Elsberg and Bogg brings to wide light a poetry filled with guts and gusto, with feeling and depth, but not sentimental or any academic professor outlook crap. I would venture to say that in the realm of poetry and society Elsberg and his Bogg present, issue by issue, the very best of poetry by people, consistently, and his mark is the mark that all other editors have to try to match. American poetry owes it all the Elsberg. Don’t forget his free for postage Bogg books. Look, if you have gotten to THE HOLD and to this page and this line and you don’t have in hand Bogg you should, you gotta. If you are that stupid to think you can get beyond the front door with your poems in your sweaty steaming hand without knowing about Bogg than you cooked greasy goose is stuffed with zebra puke.

The Face of Chet Baker by Gerald Locklin and then flip the book and you have E Minor 6 by Mark Weber.