Mystery Island Interview: A.D. Winans

Photo of A.D. Winans by Ulvis Alberts

THE A.D. WINANS MYSTERY ISLAND INTERVIEW

Interview by
BRADLEY MASON HAMLIN
MYSTERY ISLAND PUBLICATIONS
mysteryisland.net (2002)
Interview extended June 2008.

HAMLIN: Are poets important or just the random mutation of a world spinning out of balance?

WINANS: Well a lot of poets think they are more important than they are. It's a matter of walking in balance and contributing something other than words to the community you live in. You want political change, then quit finding excuses not to vote. I don't even know what a poet is, but I sure as hell can spot a phony one.

HAMLIN: Do you think that it's possible to publish for the academic press as well as the alternative without compromising talent?

WINANS: There's that old us against them thing again. Why would one want to publish for academic journals, at least the majority of them? For the most part, they are dull and uninteresting. The secret is finding those few academic journals that aren't part of the "old boys" network. One has to remember, however, that there are a slew of alternative press magazines out there who play the same favors game, under the guise of "alternative" and publish equally as dull poems as the vast majority of academic presses.

HAMLIN: What are your thoughts on performance poetry? Once someone picks up a guitar, aren't they really just second-rate musicians?

WINANS: More or less, unless the guitar is in the hands of Bob Dylan. Grand Slam is anything but grand. It represents everything poetry should not be: competition and judging. And for the most part, your grand slam poets (call them performance poets, if you want) can't write a decent line on the written page. Some of these poets (and I use the term loosely) are good at theatrics and pull off their act on stage, but on the written page they are day old milk toast.

HAMLIN: How would you define the poetry scene in San Francisco today? Is there one? Is North Beach still alive or is it just the final resting place of aging hippies?

WINANS: I don't go to North Beach but 3-4 times a year and that's to meet friend's at the Vesuvio Bar. Spec's is still a respectible bar, but they don't open until the evening and I'm not much of a night person these days. There's but a handful or less of poets left in North Beach from the old days. There are a couple of open mike readings, but there is no sense of "community", no sense of "belonging" that existed when I was there in the '50s through most of the '80s. When Kaufman and Micheline died, North Beach pretty much died with them.

HAMLIN: Tell us something about A.D. Winans that we've never heard before.

WINANS: I set a personal record of masturbating five times in one night and later equaled that in intercourse with a nymphomaniac I met at a bar called "The Monkey Inn." I made it with the only woman Allen Ginsberg ever fucked. I turned down the opportunity to receive an NEA writing fellowship, when all I had to do was go to bed with C.M., who at the time was a powerful voice with the NEA. You see, I do value integrity.

HAMLIN: When was the last time you drank somebody under the table?

WINANS: That happened twice. Once in the seventies, with Ben Hiatt, in Folsom, California. He challenged me to see who could out drink the other, and we drank 151 proof rum and coke for hours on end. He finally went to the men's room and threw up. I drove home to San Francisco, one of the stupidest things I have ever done.

More recently, that would be Lynne Savitt, in New York, but then she gets high on one vodka.

MYSTERY ISLAND: We checked in with A.D. again to do a little follow up to this original interview and to announce the re-release of his book Sleeping with Demons. [See link below]. The following interview is from June 28, 2008.

HAMLIN: It's been six crazy years since we did our first interview. In that time you've had new books published, won awards, fell in and out of love, and still remain one of the top dogs (if not the top dog) of the independent poetry scene. Is there anything you haven't done yet--that you want to do?

WINANS: My father was of Dutch heritage. I'd like to visit Holland. Writing-wise, I'd like to take a shot at writing a one-act play. I'd like to get back to finishing my autobiography. I've had a five year writing block since the second draft. I'd like to run into George Bush and flip him the finger.

HAMLIN: You've written about Lady Death. You seem to have her business card on your desk somewhere. What would you say to her if she showed up on the edge of your bed tonight?

WINANS: I'd ask her what took her so long to find me. But if she were on the edge of my bed and had killer looks, I'd ask her if I could fuck her before she did what she had to do.

HAMLIN: The ghost of Bukowski still haunts us. We just saw a Showtime program called Californication that desperately bites off of Hank's work, with of course a modern Hollywood spin. The main character is a writer in Los Angeles named "Hank," but he's a relatively good looking guy and women throw themselves at him as if he were Jesus with a hard-on. As someone who knew the real man, what do you make of the modern Bukowski mythology? I mean, even his wife Linda has re-written Buk's life to include supposed mediation, vegetarianism, and a deep love for all things Buddha. Have we lost the real Charles Bukowski--ghost and all?

WINANS: HANK created his own myth. He had it all planned out from the beginning. He admitted at least three of the women in his novel (Women) were made-up stories. Linda has indeed re-written the image of Buk. I don't think anyone who really knew Hank belives he was a meditating, vegetarianin Buddha reincarnation. I think to a large degree we have lost the "real" Bukowski. There was the "original" Bukowski in the days of Linda King and Jane and the others in his life, and then there was the "fame" Bukowski days. Somewhere in between lies the truth. But it really doesn't mean anything. It's his work that counts. There is the good and there is the bad, and then there is the "great" work he left behind. Forget the person and go to the work itself. America is obsessed with creating heroes. Let the ghosts rest in peace.

HAMLIN: Another poetry animal that has changed its spots over the years is "beat poetry." For the record, what the hell is "beat poetry" and does it still exist?

WINANS: You tell me. Beat was just a word. A word that many claim they originated, but still nothing more than a word. It was a movement, like any other movement. The time was right for it. Ferlinghetti has said he doesn't like being called a Beat, but he sure as hell likes the fame and money he has received from being labeled a Beat. To me Beat has an insincere ring to it. Micheline and I discussed this many times. Like him, I prefer to be called a Bohemian. I sure as hell don't like the label "Meat" poet that has been tagged on me by some people. And the meaning of Street poet died with Kaufman and Micheline.

HAMLIN: Meat poet is pretty funny. I know there's an awful lot of beat-the-meat poets out there, so no, that doesn't sound good. Unless you're actually reading poems on the street, "street poet" wouldn't make much sense either, but for better or worse you have been labeled "poet" in this life. If you could do it all over again would you "be" anything different, that is if you could control your destiny?

WINANS: I am what I am. I have stated time and time again that my life and poetry are one and the same. I don't think I'd do anything different. I don't know if we can control our destiny. I think maybe our destiny is pre-determined. Hell I have met the likes of John Lee Hooker, Janice Joplin, had a poem of mine set to music and performed at Tully Hall, and met some of the best poets and characters a person could hope to meet in one life time. I'm satisfied with my life. Destiny be damned.

HAMLIN: I've always said destiny is created by desire, but it doesn't always work out that way. Give us a new name for poetry, something we can carry into the future.

WINANS: I'm no prophet or guru. The good thing is that poetry will last as long as the human race lasts, which may not be that long given the way we are destroying the planet. The bad thing is that poetry has been prostituted by minor poets who seek fame at any and all costs. You can't predict the future. You can only live in the present. Poetry will take care of itself.

HAMLIN: Thanks, amigo.