And here is a link to the entire Summer issue. It’s beautiful:

Jackdaw Review Summer Issue

And a few weeks ago my poem In Brooklyn was published in South Florida Poetry Review:

Here’s the link to the entire issue. It’s terrific. https://www.southfloridapoetryjournal.com/

You’re invited to the quarterly reading at 6:30 PM Central on 8/21/25. I’ll be reading a few poems along with other contributors.

https://us02web.zoom.us/meeting/register/4CQzMBCKS2ip3CePtRJ-kg

I’m also excited to announce I’ll have poems out soon in Odd Pocket and Molecule.

Submitting poems is a lot of work and there are many rejections for each acceptance. When my book was accepted for publication in 2025, I didn’t know I could continue to submit the poems in the book and then acknowledge the magazine or anthology later, during the galley stage. I have mixed feelings about this mistake because what it means is, many of the poems in my book didn’t have a chance to go on any trips, before they stayed put.

On the other hand, I revel in mistakes- the anatomy of mistakes. If even the concept of mistakes on its own is interesting, than everyone’s mistakes are interesting. I wonder what led to a particular mistake. I wonder what assumptions have to do with the making of mistakes? How do I recognize a mistake, learn from a mistake, and reduce the chances of making the same mistake again and again? Can certain mistakes be addictive? Maybe I’m compelled to make the same mistake over and over? Have I told you that the title of my manuscript of selected plays and monologues is “Fascinating Mistakes?” I just like how mistakes are metaphorical steaks. They give you meat to chew on. Stakes too- for tomato vines and also for tents. Maybe the stakes of our mistakes function as a central pole of humanity? Maybe mistakes are some of the best places for claim staking. Either way, my mistake taught me that when I try to follow rules, I may be following rules that are not even rules at all.

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Last weekend at the I exact moment I stepped out on the balcony to look at my plants, a big herd of bicycles arrived. And then I heard, “Oh, Hi Mom!” It was my son Ruben with their Fems and Thems Bike Club. Ruben knew they’d be stopping somewhere around this area, but not that it would be exactly in the back of the building I live in!

Then, someone flew a kite. Someone told me these kites are supposed to look like squids, but I like to call them Rapunzel Kites:

Rapunzel Kite Video

At the end of last month, I drove to Iowa to participate in a writing intensive focused on picture books. It was excellent. Also, the retreat place had a cool labyrinth.

How is your summer going? Good, I hope. On this summer day of my life, my friend Andy told me about wombats. They told me that during wildfires in Australia wombats invite all creatures into their dens. No kidding. Wombats invite birds, kangaroos, koalas, you name it. Everyone is welcome. Their dens are veritable Noah’s style arks on land. Andy said wombat butts are hard and bony and so they push their bony butts against the opening of the den like a door-creating a fire safe zone. Not only that, sometimes wombats get their butts burned or even die. They are naturally altruistic. They won’t move their asses for nothing. Take from that what you will. I just thought you might like to know about the butts of wombats today and their kindness.

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buymeacoffee.com/BarrieCole

Other birthday news: If you’ve known me for awhile you know I’ve had very long or semi- longish hair for a long, long time. In fact, many years ago, I even hung my hair on a clothesline for a performance called “Dewberries and Mulberries.

But, really, beginning early this year, I’d been thinking, I’ve had enough of all this hair. And then the other day, I just knew it was time and so I had it cut on Friday and I’m glad about it. It’s possible I’m getting better at letting go.

Also, my new poem Red Glaze is in the latest issue of Cagibi. Red Glaze is a poem about ageism and using the imagination as a tool of resistance .

Share Red Glaze and share it on your social media!

Red Glaze

Thank you, thank you, thank you to everyone who stopped by my reading last Sunday, including the wonderful Kelly Anchors who joined me on stage for a few poems and of course Undercover books. I also tried out one of my new measuring tape poems.

The project is exactly what it sounds like, a limited number of poems by me written on measuring tapes.

All the Way Out- 10 feet

Will you ever take me all the way out as far far far as far as I can go? All my inches, all my feet all the way out and out until the furthest regions of me. I want to be emptied of myself. I want to stretch and stretch and stretch. I want to bathe my numbers in light and later in moonlight. Read my numbers in and out of order. They are my story.

Here a few more poems which will go on measuring tapes-

What Will you Measure?

What will you do with me? What will you measure? Will you measure something as big as time? Will you measure your floor to see if that cool green couch you saw at Goodwill will fit? If it looks like it will fit, will you get it? Will someone hold the other end of me when you measure? Who? Also, just wondering- Do you have a cat or another type of pet? And would you mind calling me a measurer instead of a measuring tape? Tape doesn’t sit well with me. I don’t want to be sticky. I don’t want to be masking, scotch, electrical, or duct- If you want, at least once, I suggest you take me out of my plastic apartment. You can use me to measure the longing in your kiss and the length of your grief.

Square Dog with Inner Poetry Snail on a Leash -

I am a leash latched on to a metal dog. I live inside the dog. I am the poetry inside the dog. I am the snail inside the dog. I am the labyrinth inside the dog. Pull me out, so I can pull the dog. I want to show the dog everything. The dog has been waiting forever. We’re ready. Let’s go,

Thanks for reading!

Coming Up- I’ll be back at Labyrinth this coming Saturday 7/25 for the State of the Cabaret curated by Diane Hamm. 8pm. 3658 N. Pulaski.

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Recommendation: If you ever have a book release party with a reading included, have someone you love read with you-someone like Carolyn Hoerdemann who is remarkable, hilarious, brilliant and many more cream of the crop adjectives beyond remarkable, hilarious, and brilliant.

Here she is reading Transfer. Happy Pride! And here is the poem:

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Here I am at the book signing table with my son Ruben who took off work to attend. When Carolyn and I were done reading the poems we’d selected, we asked if anyone had requests. This is the one the audience selected. I was so grateful Ruben was there to hear it:

And here I am with the beautiful artist and photographer Kate Roth, who created and photographed the assemblage I chose for the cover of my book:

And here is the audience which included some more of my favorite people and many new faces too. If you were there, thank you! I know the weather was awful, but you braved it, and made it, and we made some great inside weather together. Laughter is a drizzle with no water and most poems have breezy edges, tiny constellations, and worddust which is related to stardust as well as lacy clouds and thermometers.

Coming up: A reading at Undercover Books on Sunday, July 12th at Undercover Books. 4:30 PM. Undercover books is such a cool spot, in part because it doubles as a private detective agency. Kelly Anchors had to miss the release party, but will be reading with me this time! Hooray.

Reading at Undercover Books!

Other Stuff :

Lacquer is a Thrilling Word has some wonderful customer reviews. Will you write one too? Or, if you don’t have a copy, will you get one? If you have one, will you get another and give it to someone as a gift or post one of your favorite poems somewhere or ask your local library or favorite bookstore to carry it? And if you do any of these things, will you let me know?

Order Book and/or Write a Review

Also:

My poem Red Glaze was accepted to Cagibi and will appear in their July issue.

My poem In Brooklyn was accepted to the South Florida Poetry Review and will come out in their August issue

The city of Racine Wisconsin put out this Anthology of tiny poems about their city bus routes. Mine appear on page 101:

BUS POEMS ANTHOLOGY

Also, I had a great time at our family reunion in Kentucky over Father’s day weekend. Here is a picture of a felled tree with light behind it.

And a photo of me and my Dad.

I’ve been working with my Dad all year on his memoir. We’ve been randomizing the years of his life and recording our conversations. Here’s an excerpt from when he was a kid in Brooklyn:

“Yeager’s was a little grocery store. You didn’t serve yourself. They took everything off the shelves with a grabber. That was fun. So you’d say, I need a can of beans. And they would get the can. And they were just very nice. If you didn’t have money, they’d put down what you owed on a ledger like in the movies. We also had a stable across from our apartment. People had private horses and rode up and down the road. There was a bridle path on Ocean Parkway. And down the block was St. Rosa Lyman Church. We wouldn’t ever walk across in front of it. There was a gang we were scared of that probably never existed, but we were terrified of it. We were small Jewish kids. We could run, but we couldn’t fight. We had to be careful.”

Finally, I’ve been spending the day every so often with a darling 2 year old. The other day we saw perfectly great looking everything bagel on the street and made up a song about it. It went like this: “Bagel on the street. Bagel on the street. It’s so weird to see a bagel on the street! Why is there a bagel on the street?” It’s soooooo weird. Genre? Probably punk. We sang it for a long time and will probably sing it again. Maybe we’ll start a band.

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-healthy breasts and exaltation

-no dumb tests and free vacations

-fancy vests and peaceful nations

There are, of course, other words that begin with the letter R. One of those words is RSVP. So here is something to RSVP to…

My book release event on 6/11! Here is the invite:

You're Invited!

And exciting news: Two of the best actors in town: Carolyn Hoerdemann and Kelly Anchors will be reading some of the poems in Lacquer as a Thrilling Word at the event! Carolyn and Kelly have each had roles in my plays- Clumsy Sublime, To Relax and Laugh, Elevator Tours, Capacity, Reverse Gossip, but they have never done anything together. On 6/11 that will change forever and a rare non-gmo collaboration seed will be firmly planted in the soil of poetry. So….

Come. Bring friends. I’ll have books to sell. I’ll sign books. There will be pizza. There will be beverages. It’s free: RSVP

RSVP

The next R is for Review.

If you have received my book (and if you haven’t, don’t worry, you’re not alone, it’s coming) please write a review on Amazon or FLP or both.

Here’s how:

Finishing Line Press -

1. Click this link.

2. Scroll down and click “Review”

3. Type your review, give the book a star rating, and press submit! Easy peasy!

Amazon:

1. Click this link.

2. Scroll down and click “Write a review”

3. Type your review, give the book a start rating, and press submit! Hurray!

That’s it! Now you really can get some R & R. See you soon!

P.S. If you’ve received your book, please take a photo and send it to me! Or, if you see “Lacquer” in the wild, I’d love to see that too!

Karabuk, Turkey

Kansas City, MO

Dubai, UAE

I think more libraries should be book-shaped. I think some grocery stores should be broccoli shaped too, and flower shops- tulip-shaped and so on.

I’ll be having several readings in the coming months here in Chicago, Online, in Minneapolis, and hopefully other places too. If you know of a bookstore, library, or other venue where I could share my work, please let me know!

The first event is scheduled for 6/11/26. They’ll be pizza! Free. Please come!

Click here for info and RSVP: Book Release Event

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In other news, I began a 100 Haiku in 100 days project last month. I decided the Haiku didn’t have to be good at all, and so far some are truly terrible.

Here are a few that I like:

Day 9

Sun on the fish tank

Hum of the heater. Bubbles.

I learn a new world

Day 11 -

The window washer

uses suction cups to stick

Big human snails

Day 17

Jacket in a ball

A sphere on the old, blue couch

Too sad to hang it

Day 26

Nancy sews

Looking cute, smiling, once more

Poses for selfie

Day 37

Elbows on a bird

Elbows on your sibling

Discover elbows

Then a few weeks ago, I had tickets for a play and ended up not being able to go, so I gave them to my friends. The Haiku for that day ended up being:

Day 19

I gave the tickets

To Terri and Brad. They went.

Sent me a photo.

When I shared it with Terri, and told her she and Brad made it into my Haiku for that day, she started doing her own 100 day Haiku Project. Here are some of hers:

(sharing with her permission)

By Terri Smith:

#3

A hundred Haiku

ADHD dream come true

My brain is humming

#12

Cloud kissed afternoon

Backward binocular view

You look far away

#15

Asked some teenagers

What is a busy signal?

They had no idea.

#18

Dandelion seed

Alone on the empty stalk

Defying the breeze

It’s been so fun sending these Haiku back and forth with my friend. And then I remembered a story I wrote dozen or so years ago and which I performed at the Rhino Theater Festival as part of a show called Word Bath. It’s about a couple who have an argument entirely in Haiku. It’s funny. I hope you like it.

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And speaking of old stuff. I’ve been working on a big paper and folder sorting project and came across some of the writing I did before I was even ten years old. One of the cool things I’ve found about getting older is seeing how my writing has changed through the years, but also how certain themes repeat and repeat and how something essential about my personality, my takes on reality, and what I’m drawn to have been part of me from the beginning.

First, here is me:

A prompt driven weird story- (I still spell spaghetti incorrectly on a regular basis.)

Here’s a fictional land called Handobam:

And a dictionary!

Thanks Mom, for saving all this stuff.

What else? Lots going on with my aquarium and balcony. Yesterday, some tiny rice-grain sized new guppies were born. I’ve counted 9! Guppies, anyone? I have so many ramshorn snails too. All available for adoption. No charge. And the aquaponic sweet potato I’ve been watching new roots come out of for weeks finally sprouted some purple leaves. Outside, I’ve got onions, ginger, sunflowers, zinnias and poppies popping up.

Finally, here is some writing in progress:

Do you want to be charming?Do you want to be poised? How about resourced? How about capacity? Would you like some? Would you like a whole city of capacity? I would. Well maybe not a city but a home, a mansion of capacity with lots of closets and drawers and a personal organizer who is a genius and loves me and skips through the mansion, and occasionally somersaults. Also, do you want fries with that? Do you want a beverage with your life? I’ll have the man who is on the beach right now with his metal detector in one hand and his little collector basket in the other. I’ll have him with his findings. It will be like a traveling museum. I’ll get a scarf to spread out for the exhibit. Oh a quarter, oh a rusty key, a nail, four screws. My God, just look at him. He hovers the saucer over the sand, levitates it. It looks like he’s sweeping air.

Sometimes i just want to stare out. I want staring out to be my job. I want to write starer -outer on any form asking for my occupation.

Your ten toes thrill me, five on each foot I especially like the big ones and the tiny ones on each end. The tiny ones look like blueberries. I want to walk you through streets and puddles. I want to offer you thick socks with stripes or lips. I want your arches to arch to a great height. If you ask for polish, the answer is sure and if you don’t want polish the answer is of course not.

Take a joke and mix it with some flour, sugar and water to make a paste, Once you have your joke paste put it in the oven at 350 degrees for 10 full minutes. Spread it on your life so you can laugh at everything. If something isn’t funny, add more joke paste and no one no one will say you can’t take a joke, because you can.

Thanks for reading!

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In middle school- If you love it so much ,why don’t you marry it was the typical response for proclaiming your affection for a thing out loud. It was dangerous to love something, to care, to gush with enthusiasm, to swoon, or feel overcome with awe and appreciation. But hating and proclaiming your hate? Completely legitimate. It was okay to be enthusiastic about what you didn’t like- to make known what you thought sucked. And if you added a word like fuck, no one would dare tell you to marry anything, or murder anything, or do anything at all. If you were brave enough to utter a proclamation like“I fucking hate math” you’d earn the respect of your peers and maybe even get a few laughs. But loving weird things like certain words, the existence, iridescence, and built-in eyes of peacock feathers, characters in books like Pippi Longstocking and Harriet the Spy, textures like the warm, smooth metal slide at the playground making glinting low-hanging tiny stars in collaboration with the sun, or the appealingly giant pom poms kids made out of yarn to put on their roller skates, well that was about as uncool as you could get.

Mary Ruefle writes:

“O ruthless thistle, match in the dark/ you can talk to anyone about the weather/but only to your closest friends/can you mention the light.”

But, today, in honor of poetry month, I want to share my enthusiasm for the ode; the poetic form made for the sole purpose of housing enthusiasm. I like to think of the ode as enthusiasm’s apartment. Also, our 16-year old dog Miette died earlier this month, and the day before our five-year anniversary, my partner’s hand was severely burned. Not to mention the war and suffering in the world at the hands of greedy, fascist maniac which, of course, has been a faucet of perpetual astonishment and despair, enough for a million or more laments. So, I figure, maybe I’m not the only one who could use some celebratory odes.

Here are a few I like: This one is called Ode to the Ear by Joseph Millar

And this is by Ross Gay

Next, The Sweetness of Dogs by Mary Oliver is not titled an ode. but I think of it as an ode all the same. An argument could be made that most of Mary Oliver’s poems are odes.

Here’s a poem by William Stafford that for some reason I remembered incorrectly as being by Stanley Kunitz.

Ode to Garlic

By William Stafford

Sudden, it comes for you
in the cave of yourself where you know
and are lifted by important events.

Say you are dining and it happens:
Soaring like an eagle, you are
pierced by a message from the midst of life:

Memory - what holds the days together - touches
your tongue. It is from deep in the earth
and it reaches out kindly, saying, “Hello Old Friend.”

It makes alike, all offspring of powerful
forces, part of one great embrace of democracy,
united across every boundary.

You walk out generously, giving it back
in a graceful wave, what you’ve been given.
Like a child, you breathe on the world, and it shines.

But, in looking for the Stanley Kunitz poem that doesn’t exist, I remembered Sharon Old’ has a whole book of Odes aptly titled Odes. She has odes to tampons, buttermilk, condoms and cleavage- stuff rarely celebrated, She even has an ode to Stanley Kunitz:

Finally, here’s a poem from my book about so many enchanting things:

Enchantments

There are enchanting objects and this is true regardless of all the so much less than enchanting things which abound in contemporary life and sometimes recognizing the enchantment of objects that enchant can create a feeling (however, unrealistic, however fleeting) of enchantment because there are pens that not only write with the ink inside them – and ink of course is the blood of pens, but which also light up on the other end, so that the owner of the pen may write in the dark, on a train, or in a small corner of a dark bedroom late at night where loved ones are sleeping nearby.

And speaking of things that light up, and which also happen to be objects of enchantment – there are tiny, tiny chandeliers meant for doll houses, but there is no rule that anyone has to have a dollhouse in order to have a light like this and so anybody could just procure a tiny dollhouse chandelier and keep it with them in case they are in need of a bit of enchantment, which really, when you consider the state of affairs, who isn’t in need of enchantment, just who isn’t?

Also, think of wristwatches, which are, in reality, tiny clocks that wrap around wrists like wrist-belts and consider how enchanting it might be to have a wrist belt and a waist belt that match exactly and the idea of something like a matching watch and waist belt set is so enchanting that to even to think of such things is an enchanting activity on its own.

And, what about the nests secured within the limbpits of many trees as well as the branches they balance on, and the nooks they fit it into. Nests are utilitarian sculptures made by bird mothers who don’t even have arms with which to carry all of the supplies necessary to create them. Enchanting.

And many nests have eggs in them which will break open at some point to reveal birds with damp newly sprouted feathers which are the body flowers of birds and if that is not enchanting, I don’t know what is, except of course the delicate work of the spider who has been been crocheting something she calls her Festival of Rectangles for hours between the spokes of a bicycle wheel propped up near the graffitied, metal bench.

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Other news:

Spring: Weather

This isn’t a great video, but I swear when I wake up after a storm like this, all my little seedlings on the balcony have grown taller and the green everywhere has spread wider and longer like a green bedspread flung on the bed of the world.

And here is a red-winged blackbird singing among the dandelions. I imagine he’s singing about how his yellow stripes (One on each side) match the dandelions and how rude it is to name his kind- red-winged, when the yellow on him is so buttery and obvious.

Finally, a few other tidbits:

-A poem I wrote about the gingerbread house kits my kids loved when they were little, (those houses no one ever actually ate) will be published in an anthology honoring the late poet Hal Sirowitz, put out by Moonstone Arts.

- I received the galleys for my book!

-I’ve completed some solid drafts of picture books for kids ages 3-7 and I’m beginning to look for an agent. Know anyone?

- I have two shows coming up two Tuesdays in a row in May:

5/12- Serving the Sentence at Jarvis Square Tavern in Roger’s Park and

5/19 Cooler By The Lake at Space on May 17th

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Yep. The p-word resonated a little too much with 10-year-old Barrie, though, not enough to discourage me from doing it over, and over, and over, and over again. Which leads me to today:

I have less than two days to sell 15 more copies of my debut book of poetry and prose, Lacquer is a Thrilling Word, before the pre-order period ends (for real this time).

Yes, preorders were supposed to end yesterday, and, yes, I had accepted that I would be a few dozen copies shy of my goal, but now that Finishing Line Press has extended the deadline through the weekend, I’m asking for your help (I’m talking to you, my fellow procrastinators, slackers, and ADHD havers) to make it happen. You can order your copy, or five copies, here.

Already bought your copy? First of all, way to flex. Second of all, you know that friend who’s birthday aways sneaks up on you? Or, how you’re always meaning to put a book in that little free library down the block? Consider buying another copy to share! Your friend or neighbor will thank you, and so will I!

Still not sold? Try a few of these pitches on for size:

1. For the nonchalant purchaser: Hey there slackers who didn’t get around to ordering my book! Lucky for you, I just found out you can still pre-order my book through the weekend. I promise I did not find this out until yesterday. So yay, it’s not too late for you to get it, but it will be too late soon. Venmo me if you can’t deal with the FLP site and I’ll get you squared away.

2. For the poetry hater: Did your English teacher ruin poetry for you? Does your jaw clench when you hear the word “stanza?” Let me change your mind! You have until Sunday night to pre-order my book of poetry and prose, Lacquer is a Thrilling Word. It’s a poetry re-do. It’s fun, silly, and interesting, I promise. Buy it here.

3. For the person who reads all the Amazon reviews before hitting “Order”: I’ve told you before that I hate self promotion, so I’ll let my friend, A.T. Gruber, do it for me: One night, Douglas and I were watching TV and on the screen was a guy walking down the street eating cereal. An ad or something. I don’t remember. For some reason this image of the guy eating cereal on the street - in a bowl, with milk, with spoon - incensed me and I started ranting about how stupid it was to eat a bowl of cereal while walking down the street. It was a brief rant, and when I was through, Douglas said, “But I bet if Barrie Cole was walking down the street eating cereal, you’d think it was the coolest. You’d be like ‘I just saw Barrie Cole doing the most fascinating thing ever: eating cereal out of a bowl on the street… If you want to understand why I never shut up about this writer, my friend, the brilliant Barrie Cole, then you should buy this book. You’ve never read poems like this, I promise.”

4. For the “little treat” connoisseur: My book is $20.99, which is the equivalent to
   • A venti iced coffee and breakfast sandwich from Starbucks
   • One month subscription to Netflix
   • One bottle of “nice” wine at Whole Foods

   That $20.99 might feel small in the moment, but when you choose to spend it on an independent author, it makes a huge difference. Grab it here.

Last but not least:

5. For my friends: Wow. Can you believe we are at the end of the pre-order period? The outpouring of support I’ve received over the last month and a half has been truly amazing. I can’t thank you all enough. If you’re willing and able, please consider purchasing a copy (or another copy) of my book. I only need 15 orders or so more to reach my goal. After that, you never have to hear me say “last chance…” or “time’s running out…” again. Well, at least until the next book…

Kat Chwalisz made this cool promo video for my book, Lacquer is a Thrilling Word:

On March 20, the first day of Spring, a week from today, the pre-sale for Lacquer is a Thrilling Word is over, kaput. You can still buy the book in mid-May upon its release but, it would be so great if you’d order it now.

Q: Why purchase my book before 3/20?

A:#1 Because, if over 200 books are sold during the pre-sale period, I will receive 20 percent on all books sold, ever. To all of you who have bought one or more copies, thank you!

A: #2 Pre-sale orders give the book a real boost and demonstrates to publishers that I have an audience for my work.

So, if you were going to buy my book anyway, please buy it in the pre-sale period. I am happy to sign your book at my book release party on 6/11 or any other time! To all of you who have already purchased one or more copies, thank you and please consider telling your friends about it too.

Note: The FLP site can be wonky with their payment interface, so if that’s the case for you, you can pay me through Venmo or Zelle. I’ll order the book for you and it will come straight to your door.

To order:

http://www.barriecole.com/lacquer-is-a-thrilling-word.html

My Zoom Reading last month went so well, there’s going to be another one, this Monday the 16th at 7pm CST. Here is the invitation: Invitation. If you came last time, please come back. I’ll definitely be reading plenty of different poems.

Here is the Zoom Link: Zoom Link For Reading

Passcode: writing

March

I like how the word March has all the letters of the word charm in it. The word march is okay, but lately it only makes me think of war and other awful, despicable, horrifying things, so I try to think of good slogans for protest march signs instead. It’s amazing how many words rhyme with Trump:

sump pump

dump lump

rump bump

I definitely like non-military marching bands with the slides of the trombones traveling forward and back like another kind of marching. Trombones are bones of brass filled with the marrow of sound. And consider a French horn, all tied up in a brass knot like a modern pendant, like something meant to dangle from a chain, like a charm, only gigantic and musical.

I was hoping to see a goldfinch because people keep telling me they’re definitely around and goldfinches are beautiful and the word goldfinch sounds so great with charm and March. I haven’t see one yet, but while I was looking, I came upon a Mallard Duck brawl!

Also, in March, it was great to see another month: August, my Nephiece who is graduating from MICA in Baltimore this year and had their 22nd Birthday on the 2nd. My partner and I were in Baltimore for AWP, which, if you’re not familiar, is a huge conference and book fair. I’m still digesting, but one take away was a method one presenter introduced called ogre-ing, by which he meant digging down to an ogre-y part of yourself and seeing what new kind of writing comes through from there. Words haven’t come to me yet, but grunting has and maybe the grunts will become words eventually. Also, it’s been enjoyable to look up ogre images and art and read about the lore of ogres.

Creator/Artist/ Animator- Mathieu Cordreaux

I also noticed that the panels, readings, and discussions having to with ADHD and ASD were packed to the gills, and many had people waiting outside hoping to get a spot. There were great strategies including one about writing in each corner of a piece of paper and cool variations of the Pomodoro technique. One of the strategies I use daily is randomization. I made a video about it several weeks ago and thought I’d share it here. Here it is: Randomization Mini Workshop

And here is Avi! I was so glad he came with me. It’s the 5th anniversary of our first date on March 17th.

And here I am in the sweatshirt Brailey Sheridan made for me of my poem After the Meet and Greet.

Last, but not least, at the end of February, I was in the Miss Spoken show again. Here is a video of my story: Renovations

Until next time. In the meantime, if like me, you live in the State of Illinois, please don’t forget to vote on Tuesday. It matters.

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Through FLP: Pre- ORDER THE BOOK.

Here’s an another way to pre-order: Send $24.99 per book along with your mailing address by 3/20: VENMO Order-

Also, will you come to my reading this Saturday night 2/28 on zoom? 7:30 CST: Here is the invite: Virtual Poetry Reading

And now, the other stuff I wanted to tell you:

I am not a merchant, a dealer, or a retailer. I do not vend nor do I have much experience in vending. I am not a vending machine either although, of all objects to be, I could do worse. Also, merchandising is a good, long word with an s that sounds like a z, but as to what merchandising entails? I really don’t know.

But what if I did know and I was great at it? I’m just pretending, but say the thing I had to vend was the book I am already wishing more people would purchase. What then? I’m going to do a 10 plus 1.

I can’t remember where I learned this strategy, but I’ve been using it for years. Here’s how it works: If you have a problem to solve, you think of 10 possible solutions and then push for 1 more. Yes, it is 11, but sometimes there is something about the 10 plus 1 that makes something unexpected come through. (Also, any of ideas can be ridiculous or impossible-seeming.)

Here goes:

How to sell at least 103 more copies of a book of poetry and short prose while not being a merchant.

1. Beg, plead, grovel. Call everyone you know, email everyone you know, knock on doors, and buzz buzzers, sob while you plead with them to buy your book. Pretend you are in a soap opera. Say: Darling, please, please! Oh you must buy my book. You must. Ask people to imagine you on your knees groveling or even on a fainting couch in an old movie having to be fanned and then revived with smelling salts,

2. Make a video in which you present an idea of a new kind of math that goes like this: Every book of poetry purchased in the world increases the chances of the world getting better by an almost imperceptible, but still perceptible (with sensitive instruments) amount. The more poetry consumed, the better the world. Make the argument that reading poetry is on par (importance-wise) with voting.

3. Ask the richest person you know to buy all 103 copies and in exchange, tell them you will read a poem everyday to the person of their choosing. Instead of a cheese of the month club, it’s a one-benefactor poem club.

4. Invent a ritual and then imbue it with magic and strong belief. Something like: Say the alphabet 10 times, light 6 birthday candles and sing happy birthday backwards, read one poem by Lucille Clifton, one by Diane Seuss, and one by Emily Dickinson. Then using a pen as a magic wand say, “Book books, be frisbees and soar, go into a window, go into a door.

5. Ancestor Beseechment: Call upon your ancestors. Ask them to send intel. My Grandpa owned a painting and drywall business so maybe he has ideas. Borrow a Ouija board.

6. (This one was Avi’s idea) Write your name in the dirt on the side of a filthy CTA bus. This will be free advertising.

7. Have friends go into libraries and bookstores asking for your book. Have them ask the librarian or book store clerk to look up the book. When they say it is still in pre-order until March 20th, pretend to order 10 copies on your phone and then run out the door as if you are in a rush. This will create buzz.

8. Go to O’hare airport. If you see a QR code, place the QR code for your book on top of it. Yes, people might think they are ordering more gigabytes, but they’ll likely be better off down the road with a book.

9. Have a reading on zoom. Don’t sabotage it. Share your work.

10. Find as many ambassadors of sovereign nations as you can. Go to Embassies. Find out where the ambassadors like to hang out. Ask them if they’d like to be an ambassador of something else, something like a book of poetry for example. Say you will be an ambassador for their country, if they will be an ambassador of your book. Ask them if they have flags on toothpicks you could wave and you’ll provide bookmarks for them to wave. Win/win.

Plus 1: Find a high school with burnt-out, stressed-out English teachers in it. Volunteer to take over their classes for a week. Bring inflatable mattresses and eye masks so the teachers can rest. Lead a poetry unit using the poems of your friends, other poems, and some of your poems. Have the students write poems. When the principal sees how relaxed the teachers are and the students going on and on about sonnets, they will decide the whole high school should be dedicated to poetry and poetry books including yours and spend the budget on books instead of PSAT tests and test prep materials.

*I’ve decided to try #9 first.

Next: A Correction

For some reason my podcast of three conversations I had with Wendy Cole was cut short. Sorry! Here is the full podcast: https://substack.com/@barriecole/note/p-189038569?r=12muxh&utm_source=notes-share-action&utm_medium=web

And a Scene Too

This past Saturday, my friends A.T. and Douglas came over to read through Reality is an Activity an older play of mine about how poetry might save the world. It was fun to hear again for the first time in a long, time. Here’s an excerpt in which Helen, Miranda, and Fred watch the actual audience of the play as if they are reading a poem:

HELEN
Fred, let me explain: We look at each audience as if we are looking at a poem, a sonnet in particular, a sonnet with extra features.

MIRANDA

We observe them row by row. You can see their sorrows and joys that way, their character as it were.

HELEN
Every four rows is a quatrain and the two front rows are the couplet. If there are more or less than fourteen rows or, if there are empty seats, we call those sections free verse and sometimes we group them into stanzas but sometimes we do not. It all depends.

MIRANDA

Are you enjoying the thing of it Fred? Don’t you find them captivating? Isn’t it fun to be able to wonder aloud and watch something at the same time? There’s hardly a place in the world where people can do that. We’re so lucky.

FRED

I find it a bit overwhelming and I have to, I actually really do have to use the bathroom.

HELEN

So Fred, if there are 13 ways of looking at a blackbird as Wallace Stevens outlines in his well known poem 13 Ways of Looking at a Blackbird why then what else, what else? A blackbird is rather arbitrary and so, if there are thirteen ways of looking at one, why then, there must be at least thirteen ways of looking at anything at all, perhaps even more than thirteen.

FRED

Oh? Like what?

HELEN

A cloud perhaps, a child, a whale, a wall, a floor, a chair…

MIRANDA

A table!

HELEN

A home, a country, or situation: anyone or anything at all, even you Fred, even you. Poetry offers instructions. We’ll probably end up writing some sort of pamphlet elucidating all of this. Do you think we should write one?

MIRANDA

Definitely. I am such a fan of pamphlets, they’re wonderfully portable.

HELEN

We’ll probably need more money from the foundation for pamphlets Fred. Best to just give us one lump sum and we’ll take it from there.

FRED

I am not at liberty to…

MIRANDA

We are watching them undergo something very private and it is never boring. How could it be boring to watch a poem watch a play? It’s as if we are watching them read a book without pages. Sometimes it feels a bit wrong to look at them because they are probably quite sure that they are the ones looking and not the ones being looked upon. Isn’t that funny somehow? But we’ve come to see that they are in the role of the audience and although it is true that we are placing them in that role for the play that we are watching about them, they are also pretending.

FRED

Oh?

HELEN

Yes, they are pretending that the actors in the play they are watching are real people. So, if you think about it, it’s all fully reciprocal.

FRED

I don’t understand.

HELEN

They are pretending the actors are real and we are pretending they are actors.

FRED

But what is everyone pretending about you?

(Miranda and Helen consider this for the first time.)

MIRANDA

That’s a very good question. I mean, they can’t see us, but if they could, well then, then what?

HELEN
Perhaps you have some insight into that Fred?

FRED

I definitely do not.

MIRANDA Sometimes I want to sing to them even though they can’t see or hear us. I want to tell them things.

FRED

Oh? Like what?

MIRANDA

My thoughts.I want to perform my thoughts for them somehow, like, well, like a monologue I suppose. I want to tell them that I think a better thing to call a thesaurus would be a synonym compendium. I want to tell them how wonderful I think it is that the word synonym sounds so much like cinnamon, but also how sad it is that there is no synonym for cinnamon because cinnamon is a spice; it just is exactly what it is, just one thing, unless you also count it as a color, which I do. One synonym for cinnamon the color is umber and that makes me feel better about the whole situation.

FRED

That’s what you would tell them if they could hear you?

MIRANDA

Yes.

HELEN

What would you say?

FRED

I would definitely ask them where on earth the closest restroom is.

HELEN

Do you want to know something interesting Fred, about audiences?

FRED

Not really I…

HELEN

The audience does everything that the actors do.They forget their lines or blocking or where they are supposed to be altogether. They stop paying attention. They think too little or too much. Self-consciousness is a tricky thing. Sometimes they get carried away or refuse to be transported. So much goes into their roles.

MIRANDA

You can learn a lot about people when you look at them looking, when you watch them watch.

HELEN

Sometimes they miss their cues and mistakenly believe that a pause indicates applause.

MIRANDA

All of them want to have sex.

FRED

You’re just making all this up.

MIRANDA

No we’re not! There are more things in heaven and earth, Fred, than are dreamt of in your philosophy. What do you see, when you look at them?

FRED

I guess I…I guess I see… I just well, I see people.

MIRANDA

Just people?

FRED

Well, yes.

MIRANDA

It just so happens Fred, that when they clap, their hands look like wings. And when they laugh, their laughter really does comes in waves, like an ocean. Sometimes, we look at each one of them and imagine how he will look in ten years.

FRED

Not well, I imagine.

MIRANDA

You’d be surprised.

HELEN

Also, Fred, we’ve noticed that in plays without formal intermissions the audience takes an intermission anyway; a recess of sorts. They leave for a few minutes without ever getting up from their seats. If their phones are in their pockets, they touch their pockets or they look at their programs or they look at their watches to see the time. It is possible that an intermission is contagious, and if so, the actors might catch it and begin to think about their other roles in life and also what they might like to eat or drink later, after the show. Some take an intermission whether they are in a theater or not, they just take one. And some have an intermission that never ends, it last their whole lives.

MIRANDA

It is as if they are online forever.

FRED

How awful!

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Every Valentine’s day I remember when my son Ruben was just a little over a month old. We were coming home from a doctor’s appointment and Ruben was fussy in the car so I decided to stop at a cafe. Inside, there was a man there who had a baby too, but his baby was as chubby as could be, could already smile, laugh even, and was shuffle-walk-crawling his way around a little table while holding a pretend phone with one hand and the table’s edge with the other. I told the man he had a cute baby and he told me that it was the baby’s 1st birthday. I marveled at what 11 more months could look like. What’s his name? I asked. “Valentine,” he said. Oh! I said. Then I said: “Happy Birthday and Valentine’s Day, Valentine.” Then the man asked what my baby’s name was and I said, “Ruben.” And then the man said his own name was Ruben. And so, we were two Rubens, two Valentines (one person, one day) and a Barrie.

Here’s a love poem:

Love Words are Lovebirds with Wendy Jo Cole

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Earlier this week, I recorded a new podcast with a special guest: My sister, Wendy Cole! This time, the themes of our 3, 5-minute long conversations all had to do with love. A little about Wendy: Wendy served as the director of Maple Street School for decades and now works as a therapist, minister, activist, and more. Ideas, play, rituals, and surprises are what she’s all about. Here’s the podcast:

Words are Birds: Writing, News and Ideas from Barrie Cole

Wendy Cole & I have 3 conversations about Love

Listen now

6 months ago · Barrie Cole

Book News: The pre-sale period for my book, Lacquer is a Thrilling Word is exactly half over. Almost 100 books have been ordered, so I’m just about halfway to my goal. If you enjoy my writing, need more books in your life, want to change up your book group, or want to prove to your friends that poetry is accessible and can be funny too, please: Order my book here. Then, maybe you’ll forget you ordered something and when my book is released in May, you’ll receive an unexpected present from yourself. Also, it’s Valentine’s Day and the cover is pink.

Also, here’s a tiny Valentine:

To hear the whole poem along with some others, please come to my online reading on February 28th at 7:30 pm CST with special guest Sheri Reda. No ticket or payment necessary. Here’s the link: Poetry Reading passcode: writing

Winter Stuff
Last weekend I was in Devil’s Lake leading a writing retreat with regular attendees of the Wednesday and Friday free writing groups. Devil’s Lake is in Wisconsin about halfway between Chicago and Minneapolis. We wrote and ate and talked and slept and wrote some more and even sang parts of 40 different songs in a row and a few of us went Cross-country skiing over the lake while ice -fisherpeople fished through holes they’d carved around us. Some had cool shacks with word-burning stoves and gigantic dogs.

I loved the whole thing and it was especially nice to see the writers from Minneapolis safe and out of the chaos for a couple of days and also great to hear upon returning, that ICE is leaving. Right after the retreat, I’d enrolled in an intensive workshop with two master poets: Ellen Bass and Marie Howe. I was thinking about the retreat, which had just ended and rituals and writing and on the 2nd day of the workshop I wrote this draft of a new poem:

Customs Enforcement

If only ice agents acted on behalf of ice, if they worked in service of all the cubes resting in their communal plastic beds, if they protected the long beards of crushed ice pouring out from freezer doors, if they honored the customs of glaciers, the immigration of bergs, if they enforced their own presence on the snowbanks of the great lakes as an audience to the waves performing their traditional winter show called Rain in Reverse: a romance. The waves kiss everything

And if only we could witness the Tujia women from China as they draw their barrels of sorrow from wells on the other side of the world.Do you know their crying lessons begin in childhood and once proficient they learn to sing as they cry. They have singcrying contests to train because before their wedding day, they must singcry an hour a day or more for a month.

Oh, what is this poem about? God, what could it mean? What should we do? Tell me please. I’m listening.

Share Words are Birds: Writing, News and Ideas from Barrie Cole

According to FLP, more than 80 copies of my book have been pre-ordered. Thank you so much lovely pre-orderers. I don’t know if I’ve ever sold 80 of anything except maybe girl scout cookies and that was mostly due to my Grandma Roz. She would drag me along and tell me to ring doorbell after doorbell on both floors of the Florida condominium complex where she and my Grandpa George lived. If someone refused, she’d go into Yiddish mode. I didn’t understand the meaning of the words, but they seemed to be the key to unlocking multiple orders of thin mints. I don’t have my Grandma anymore, so I’ll have to rely on other methods although, unfortunately, I’m not sure what those methods are so I’m experimenting. I will tell you this: My goal is to sell 200 books during the pre-order period which ends on 3/20. I think it’s possible. We’ll see. Here’s the link: Finishing Line Press.

And look, I have pens and bookmarks too. If you send me your address I’ll send you some while supplies last. Cost: Free.

In other news, I tried out my podcast idea! I’m not sure yet what I think about the results because I’ve never made a podcast before, but I really liked having 18 different five-minute conversations chosen randomly from 60 topics. We discussed round-shaped things, Yoko Ono, spelunking, pencils, packing, memory, and more. I’d love to know what you think. I think they are better listened to, than viewed, but suit yourself. Here they all are:

Vicki Walden: Actor, Writer, Musician. Check out Vicki in Mickle Maher’s remount of Song about himself in a limited run next month: Ticket Link. Highly recommended.

Words are Birds: Writing, News and Ideas from Barrie Cole

Talking With Vicki Walden

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7 months ago · 2 likes · Barrie Cole

Jenny Magnus: Writer, Playwright, The Crooked Mouth band member, Co-founder of Curious Theater Branch and author of the book: Observations of an Orchestrated Catastrophe

Words are Birds: Writing, News and Ideas from Barrie Cole

Jenny Magnus

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7 months ago · 2 likes · Kailey Broussard

AT Gruber: Author of the autobiographical essay collections: You’re not Edith & Transference and their one-person show: After Arizona

Words are Birds: Writing, News and Ideas from Barrie Cole

Talking With A. T. Gruber

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7 months ago · 2 likes · Barrie Cole

Terry Sofianos Wohlgenant: Performing Artist, Singer, Creator

Words are Birds: Writing, News and Ideas from Barrie Cole

Talking with Terry Sofianos Wohlgenant

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7 months ago · 3 likes · Kailey Broussard

Mark Miller: Architect focused on Sustainability , Solar energy, and creator of the Love Notes App.

Words are Birds: Writing, News and Ideas from Barrie Cole

Talking With Mark Miller

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7 months ago · 2 likes · Barrie Cole

Robin Cline: Artist, writer, lecturer, Chicago Neighbor Space Director

Words are Birds: Writing, News and Ideas from Barrie Cole

Talking with Robin Cline about Pianos, Orphan Punchlines, and the Aufguss Towel Dance

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7 months ago · 2 likes · Barrie Cole

Invitations

Whether or not you live in Chicago, please come hear some of the work from my book with special guest Sheri Reda, author of Diaspora. Here is the zoom link: us06web.zoom.us/my/barriecole

On February 23rd, I’ll be back at Cole’s in Logan Square with a new piece as part of Misspoken along with Jen Moniz, Amy Eaton, Jasmine Davilia and others. The subject of the show is Thin Ice. https://www.facebook.com/share/18JCcJWfuH/

Here’s a clip from the Miss Spoken show I did last summer:

I Like the Lake

A request:

So last month, radio host Turi Ryder interviewed me on WCPT about generative writing, poetry and how they relate to the awful things in the world. Here is the interview:

A week or so after the interview, Turi invited me to read a poem at a poetry event at her synagogue. I liked it! So, my request is this: With the preorder deadline quickly approaching on March 20th, I need help promoting my book to a wider audience. Who has bookstore, library, or press contacts that might be into my work? Who knows high school teachers or college professors who’d like a visiting writer, Q&A, or optional workshop? This could be in person or online. Anyone in a book group? How about considering a different kind of book? April is poetry month. Let me know if you have ideas.

Some good new! My book of poems and short prose: Lacquer is a Thrilling Word, is now available for pre-order! To get your copy or copies go to this link: Finishing Line Press or use the QR code below. Please don’t wait until the book is released as smaller presses use pre-sale funds to pay for the book’s printing, marketing, and distribution.

And here is how I’m feeling about promoting the book:

I tell myself: Self-promotion is horrible, scary, and embarrassing. I say, Barrie, you are much, much, much too weird. It’s as if your co-worker got a raise, a bonus, and new job title and then asked you how your employee review went and you say, “Oh, I got promoted too, but I had to do it myself.” They’d say, “Yeah, that’s not a thing.” Also, Barrie, the title is so stupid. Lacquer is a Thrilling Word? What were you even thinking? Who cares if lacquer is most definitely a thrilling word with its c and q side by side like a wildly successful collaboration among neighbors? Who cares if lacquer speaks in layers of raincoats all the while rendering gleam? Who cares if sonically, the word sounds like something is lacking, when in reality. the exact opposite is happening? And who cares if lacquer relishes in its own versatility, serving as both a noun and a verb: (they lacquered with lacquer) Well, that would be me, but it would probably be wise to keep such delights to myself.

I ask:

Self Ocean or Self Promotion?

Answer: Self Ocean.

Still…

This is what I want you to know:

I hope you experience my book as an enjoyable, sensation-producing rectangle.

I hope it makes you woozy in the best kind of way.

I hope you find it inventive and full of verve.

I hope you describe it as a whole different ball of wax, but one that you would keep, should you, of course, be in the market for such a ball.

Here’s what poet Alison Luterman (Hard Listening) says: To enter the pages of Lacquer is a Thrilling Word is to walk inside the wild and wonderful, kaleidoscopically shape-shifting mind of Barrie Cole, appreciating an odd truth bomb here, a moment of delight or humor there, and now and again a totally unexpected light ray of divine wisdom shooting through a dusty stained-glass window that was somehow exported from an ancient Gothic cathedral to a grocery store in downtown Chicago. There are too many delightful lines to quote in a blurb, but let’s just say that she had me at “I am still a good person if I have had an unfortunate haircut, the kind where there are bangs of insanity, the kind wherein cutting more could not even begin to improve it, a haircut that makes purchasing a wig a genuine consideration and I am still a good person if I paid the bill late and I was too anxious to attend the party and too anxious to say hello to the neighbor and so pretended not to see her at all and this was no surprise, because I do this more than I do not, but I am still good. Probably.” I’ll leave you to discover the rest on your own.”

Words are Birds Podcast:

I’ve recorded 5 podcasts in which I have 3 short conversations with an interesting person. We each choose 5 topics we’d like to discuss and then let a randomizer application choose 3 from the list. Then, in part 2: I read something they’ve written and they read something I’ve written. This one is with artist, performer, writer, and Neighbor-Space director Robin Cline. I hope you enjoy it and please let me know, if you’d like to appear on a future episode.

And here is the poem from Lacquer is a Thrilling Word which Robin read:

The Cardboard Piano

I’d inherited my Grandpa’s piano      
a solid upright, with various 
marks and indentations on its skin,
its wood that is-itself. 

Perhaps the piano had
grown bored in the basement
where it lived in solitary
confinement, unplayed
for years.

My husband and I set about
hiring piano movers.
This was before the divorce
My God, the kids were still babies

The staircase to our floor
was steep, narrow too
People were always hitting
their heads on the ceiling 
It was single file only,
never two at a time

The piano movers told us 
they weren’t optimistic
about making it work
so they’d have to practice first
using a cutout cardboard piano 

It would be like a dress pattern.
It would be like a dress rehearsal too
Two dresses 

When they brought over the cardboard
piano, I almost applauded. 
It had scratchy music like a push
broom sweeping a sidewalk
like squirrels on a roof, all
pitterpatter &hurry.
It was a sandpaper, treebark,
pingpong, sawdust quartet.

They worked out just how it 
would go up the stairs, turn at the
corners, and make it over to
the spot where we wanted it.
They pretended the cardboard 
piano was heavy-for practice 
but still they whispered.

Not a yell, not one grunt.

The next week, when they came back
with the real piano, I took the kids
to the park straight away. I knew 
heavy was heavy. 

We didn’t need to see the real struggle up: 
The heaving, the bearing of so much weight. 
There’d be enough struggling later, 
for all of us.

Special Workshops this Month:

2 New Free Workshops in January :

1. How to Use Randomization to Do the Stuff You Need and Want to Do

When: Saturday 1/24/26 & 1/31/26 at 11 a.m. (Come to one or both)

Description: It’s always been difficult for me to do things in any kind of prescribed order, especially super boring things like getting health insurance, or scary things like starting a newsletter, but by using various randomization tools, everything is much easier. Randomization is how I’ve been able to write over a dozen plays, have a pretty clean house, and cope with overwhelm. Calling procrastinators,ADHD -havers, depression-sufferers, and weirdos, this might be just the thing for you.

2. Randomized Writing Prompts Workshop

Free Workshop 1/24/26- 1-3 p.m. CST.

Description: I have a list of over 300 simple prompts that I will randomize. We’ll respond to the prompts along with opportunities to read some of your writing;

Everyone welcome. No need to sign up, just show up.

https://us06web.zoom.us/my/barriecole...

passcode: writing

Finally, I’ve spent the last week in Seaside, Oregon attending Pacific University’s residency writers conference. I attended lecture after lecture as well as workshops with master poets like Dorianne Laux, Ellen Bass, Mahtem Shiferraw, Joeseph Millar, and Chris Abani and others. I will leave with more tools, ideas, and drafts of poems, but also a solid conviction (and it was pretty solid already, but today it's feeling unsmashable) that art matters. Words matter. Books matter. Stories matter. Theater matters. Songs matter. Poems matter. For Real. Art is serious, not frivolous. It is not in bad taste to speak of it, marinate in it, to transmit through it, and to be changed by it again and again. In the face of rising fascism and violence we need more art not less so that we might cope, laugh, cry, find our way, understand, reconfigure, come together, assist, fight, care and hold on to as well as expand our collective humanity.