Lillian Nećakov : The Saddest Poem

for & after John Barlow

 

The saddest poem is an empty hospital bed in the middle of a parking lot at the corner of Dundas and Bathurst. Clouds hovering like giant floatation devices. Summertime - the spitting image of your face – nothing more than an oil stain. And I’m pulling on my tights against this strange and terrible wind. There is a giant hole in the airspace filled with ideas and I think them, and I think them and each idea is a Saturday so sad.

But the saddest day is always Sunday. Whether we’re talking about love or reincarnation, tastes like a mouth on LSD, you said.

Last night we had enchiladas rojas and pie and beer. Later, we stepped outside to look at the night sky and there in the middle of our lives was a tiny Lawrence Welk, like a promise, conducting a miniature orchestra of atoms. And we told each other stories of toasters and our younger selves in motorcycle jackets and the shadows rippled into commas and ampersands  and ellipsis. And I kept thinking of that market kid and his lemonade stand, the saddest poem you wrote, and all the libraries closed, all the city pools, the barber shops, the zoos, the subway, infinite space, closed. And I thought, where does a kid like that go to cry hard?

But the saddest day is always Sunday. Whether we’re talking about hydrogen or flipflops, you only have to want to live and you live. That’s what you said.

The saddest poem is a piece of turquoise glass at the corner of Augusta and Nassau, 2 x $5 tax churros. The girl at the pickup window, hair the colour of condensed milk and somehow your eyes, smiling. But really, the thing I came here to tell you is how easily the skin breaks when one of us is gone. And that a city is held together by nothing more than the routes we walk in tandem and that the saddest poem you will write is the one you write from heaven.

 

 

 

 

Lillian Nećakov is the author many chapbooks, including, The Lake Contains and Emergency Room (Apt. 9 Press; shortlisted for the bpNichol Chapbook Award), as well as the full-length collections il virus (Anvil Press; shortlisted for the Pat Lowther Memorial Award), Hooligans (Mansfield Press), The Bone Broker (Mansfield Press), Hat Trick (Exile Editions), Polaroids (Coach House Books) and The Sickbed of Dogs (Wolsak and Wynn). Her book, Midnight Glossolalia, a collaborative poetry collection with Scott Ferry and Lauren Scharhag was published in 2023 (Meat for Tea Press). Her book, Duck Eats Yeast, Quacks, Explodes; Man Loses eye, a collaborative poem with Gary Barwin was published in May 2023 by Guernica Editions. She has also published in many print and online journals in Canada and the U.S. Lillian lives in Toronto.

Poet Questionnaire #1: Lillian Nećakov answering Stan Rogal

 

 

 

To be honest, I don't know that many writers these days, on a personal level. During the nineties, there was a wild group I hung out, partied with, put on events with, but this group has (sadly) since dispersed. I thought it might be nice to re-create some of that old-time camaraderie and "the interview" format seemed a nice, relaxed entry. I also wanted to interview writers who contributed to the literary community in broader ways, not only as writers, but as publishers, editors, event organizers, and such. I knew Lillian Nećakov vaguely, had even read at her Boneshaker series, and thought it might be fun to begin with her. That said, I tried to make the questions pertinent to her situation as well as open enough for her to elaborate as she saw fit. I certainly benefited from the experience and I hope others will too. Lillian's a very cool cat, indeed, and well-worth getting to know better.

1.    Will the real Lillian Nećakov please stand up! Meaning, give our readers an overview of who you are, what you do, and why you do it.

I write poems, lots and lots of poems, I just can’t stop. I’ve published seven full-length poetry books, a bunch of chapbooks, broadsides, postcards etc., I’ve been published in numerous print and online journals and I feel like I am only just getting started.

I used to run a very tiny press called Surrealist Poets Gardening Assoc. in the 1980s and I sold my books on Yonge St. along with Crad Kilodney, Stuart Ross, Mark Laba, Michael Boyce and Arno Wolf Jr. (Timothy Weatherill). I was once offered a giant roll of cash for one of my books, by a very drunk guy. I peeled off a two-dollar bill and gave the rest back to him. I’d like to think my book changed his life.

Here are a couple of lines from a poem I wrote last year, “every good poem has a dog in it” (well at least some good poems), “every good life has at least the idea of a dog in it”. I truly believe this.

I love a good mystery book, preferably by a Scandinavian author.

The first time I had falafel was in Berkley, in the early 1980s. I was on vacation and staying with the inimitable Opal Nations and his wife Ellen. The best part of that vacation was getting to hang out with Opal in the KPFA radio studios during the airing of his show “Doo-Wop Delights”.

I worked for the Toronto Public Library for 39 years and loved every minute of it. I have Stuart Ross to thank for suggesting I apply, all those years ago.

My two favourite places in the world are Wakefield (Quebec), and Ireland.

I love pasta and a good pint. My dog’s name is Ozzy, he too loves pasta.

Kindness is a country I want to live in.

Oh, and coffee, always coffee.

2.    You are often referred to as a Surrealist poet. Are you? If yes, what does this mean and how does it manifest in your poetry?

No, I don’t consider myself a surrealist. I have definitely been influenced by surrealism, but to call myself a surrealist is too easy. I find that people throw around the term when they don’t really know how to describe something that is outside the norm, that they don’t really understand.

Andre Bréton defined surrealism as… “dictation of thought in the absence of all control exercised by reason, outside of all aesthetic and moral preoccupation”. While I certainly do use automatic writing there is a great deal of thought and editing and tinkering involved.

I’m not really sure what kind of poet I am.

The late Robert Hogg – after reading my above ground chapbook ¢3 pulp – referred to me as a “latter day beat poet”. I can live with that.

3.    You live in Toronto and coordinated the former Boneshaker Reading Series out of the Silverthorn library. How was this for you as an experience?

It was an absolute delight! When I first started the series in 2010 I never dreamed it would run for ten years, host writers from all parts of Canada and even a Scottish poet.

Initially I started the series because I saw a real need for more adult programming at our library branch. I figured we had the space, I knew a bunch of writers and there were no readings taking place in that neighbourhood at the time.

One of things I really loved about Boneshaker is the sense of community it fostered. Local library patrons who had never attended a reading started showing up and kept coming back every month. There was a nice mix of locals and people from outside the neighbourhood. Many people told me that they really liked how intimate the series felt and that they made new connections and friends.

I’m really proud of the series and our community for championing writers and books.

How fortunate I was (really, all of us) to be able to meet all these incredible authors and hear them read their work.

4.    What is your interpretation of the term “career poet”?

Someone once said that “career poets are everywhere to be found, recognizable as themselves. Like lobbyists or admen”. I have nothing to add, except that maybe career poets have better hair than I do.

5.    What keeps you writing poetry given there are fewer poetry publishers and even fewer poetry books being sold?

I write to expand my world, to stir shit up, take risks, move closer to joy, to the unknown and maybe discover something I didn’t know was in me. At times it can be very frustrating but it’s what I love, what makes me happy. Publishing is a bonus.

6.    Tell us about your recent poetry collection in collaboration with Gary Barwin, Duck Eats Yeast, Quacks, Explodes, Man Loses Eye.  

Oh, what a liberating, roller coaster, pull out all the stops, absolutely delightful journey that was. It was so invigorating and exciting working on this book with Gary. We wrote it in a very short period of time, sometimes writing up to 3 or 4 pieces back and forth in one day. We were both really fired up and open to anything and everything. I think you can feel the energy in the work.

Gary and I have known each other for a long time, we both knew where and how far we could go with the project and that gave us the confidence to run with it. The book is filled with music, mathematics, philosophy, illustrations, scientific formulas, history and of course, dogs.

The editing took some time, we had the help of the fabulous Donato Mancini. I think the editing almost took longer than the actual writing. I am really proud of this book, it’s very different than my other work. I am thankful for Gary’s generosity, imagination and friendship.

7.    Poets deal in words. What is your favourite word? What word strikes your funny bone or makes you feel uneasy/awkward for no particular reason when you say it? Why?

Great question! These days I’m kind of fond of the word “bioluminescence”. I love the sound of it, what it conjures, the way it rolls off the tongue, how it’s delicate and strong at the same time.

I recently discovered Manchán Magan, an Irish writer, and documentary filmmaker, who is trying to keeping the Irish language alive. I have fallen in love with so many of the words he writes about. For example, “caibleadh” - spirit voices heard in the distance at sea on calm nights and “tuaim” - the sound of sea banging against land. I have used a number of these words in some of my recent writing. I love the specificity of each word and its deep connection to the landscape.

8.    Do you feel that poetry has the power to end war, hunger, discrimination and environmental destruction in the world?

It certainly has the power to shift the paradigm.

Lawrence Ferlinghetti said, “The greatest poetry subverts the dominant paradigm, ultimately challenges the status quo of the world and transforms it into something new and strange”.

9.    Do you have any advice for anyone who’d like to be(come) a poet?

Read, read, read! Do not let your work be guided by notions of what a poem should be. Listen for the music in everything. Find a writing community. Writing is hard, painful, magical, lonely, transformative, a lifelong practice. Write, write, write, then read some more.

Trees are good, nature is good, go stand in a forest, walk beside bodies of water, there are so many words waiting there too. 

10. Add any additional comments of your own choosing. Manifestos included.

 

 

 

 

Lillian Nećakov is the author many chapbooks, including, The Lake Contains and Emergency Room (Apt. 9 Press; shortlisted for the bpNichol Chapbook Award), as well as the full-length collections il virus (Anvil Press; shortlisted for the Pat Lowther Memorial Award), Hooligans (Mansfield Press), The Bone Broker (Mansfield Press), Hat Trick (Exile Editions), Polaroids (Coach House Books) and The Sickbed of Dogs (Wolsak and Wynn). Her book, Midnight Glossolalia, a collaborative poetry collection with Scott Ferry and Lauren Scharhag was published in February, 2023 (Meat for Tea Press). Her book, Duck Eats Yeast, Quacks, Explodes; Man Loses eye, a collaborative poem with Gary Barwin was published in May 2023 by Guernica Editions. She has also published in many print and online journals in Canada and the U.S. Lillian lives in Toronto.

Rogal lives and writes in the backwater hamlet commonly known as Toronto, along with his artist partner and their pet jackabee. His work has appeared — almost miraculously — in numerous magazines and anthologies in Canada, the US, and Europe. He is the author of several books, plus a handful of chapbooks. An autodidactic intellectual classicist [reformed]. Speaks semi-fluent English and controversial French. Also a Personal Confessor, Truth Teller, and Psychic Investigator: no job too small; cheap rates.