dodgems
Eileen Myles
New York
Nos. 1–2 (1977–79).
The issues are unnumbered; no. 1 has nuns in dodgem cars on the cover, no. 2 a woman holding a can.
dodgems [1] (1977).
I’ve never liked mimeo. Sure, it’s fast and it’s cheap but it doesn’t look like a book. If you can do it yourself, why bother? Why not just xerox your favorite new poems from time to time and hand ’em to your friends? Or better still, why not stylishly fold your latest into your back pocket and show it to the several people who matter? How many people’s taste do you trust? I mean, who actually understands poetry? I publish my poems in mimeo magazines. I like to see them breathe beyond my own typewriter though I’m much happier when they’re typeset….
![Dodgems [2], 1979.](https://fromasecretlocation.com/wp-content/uploads/2016/09/eileen-myles-dodgems-2-1977-r-412x530.jpg)
dodgems [2], 1979.
You say Wow, don’t these books look pretty! Pick one up & sniff the nice new cover—but don’t look inside—pure dreck…. But I like these shiny books: they look commercial, real, they look American. If only the stupid publishers and the brilliant poets could get together. Mimeo skirts all that so the publisher is the poet’s best friend or even the poet and that’s that. Your family won’t believe it’s a book but so what. They also are unable to read your poems. So I have only set my hand once to mimeo publishing but it was an act of revenge in my heart—we did an anthology of poems ourselves in response to another slicker inferior one. Mimeo was effective in this case—fast & cheap. It wasn’t like killing someone, it was like throwing a beer in their face.
— Eileen Myles, The Poetry Project Newsletter (March 1982)
[Neither issue of dodgems was produced via the mimeo machine.]
“The nuns came first in 1977 and the woman holding a can was 1979. The third issue would have been great with Mae West holding the torch instead of the statue of liberty but I decided to go on a drunken voyage with my girlfriend instead and kill the magazine. A sorrow. I’m always wanting to bring dodgems back and maybe I will.”
— Eileen Myles, 2013