NOT ALL; ME(N)

In 2002 I co-produced and co-hosted a 24-hour marathon reading of the complete poems of Emily Dickinson as the grand opening event at the Bowery Poetry Club on the Lower East Side of Manhattan. Eighty-six readers read nonstop through 1,775 poems and it took exactly 24 hours. Emily wrote 24-hours worth of poetry. I bet she knew that.

The quote we included in promoting the event was:

“Tell all the truth but tell it slant.”

I love it so much that when I co-edited with Sybilia Grogan Jabberfucky and other poems, an anthology of bawdlerized poems, the epigraph was, “Fuck all the truth but fuck it slant.”

I think “Tell all the truth but tell it slant” turns out to be more observation than recommendation. We do tell all the truth, but we tell it slant.

Take the words of furious virgins (AKA “incels,” a word I mention but don’t use). Just let them talk; they’re telling on themselves. They pad the truth for a soft landing, but it’s all right there.

We reveal when we conceal.

“That’s the thing: Women don’t actually like me(n)!”

“Women don’t even enjoy sex with me(n)!”

“They won’t even give me(n) a chance!”

“It’s a fact that women aren’t physically attracted to me(n).”

“It’s so obvious women hate me(n).”

“Women accuse me(n) all the time.”

It’s the flipside to “Not all men!” It’s

Not all; me(n)!