Self-Portrait of the Artist Afraid of His Self-Portrait

Alan Catlin


“You’re Innocent
When You Dream”


after Stan Rice

when the night is filled
with soft primitive fears,
a quietus, quicksilvered,
mercurial as a lunar event,
forest primeval touched
by a serious, severed light;
the sweating leaves and razor
edged elephantine grass
ripping the chests of dream
beasts, tearing their thick
hairy chests, their grainy
eyes trying to contain vast
clouds of chemical spray:
DDT, Agent Orange, silence
killers, furtive as insectual
life, their newly deformed,
larval eggs hatched within
their wretched nests.


isbn 1-59661-066-2
52 pages/$9

In poems that springboard from cultural and pop cultural icons like Chagall, Turner, and Andy Warhol, Catlin creates a crazy quilt of strange, terrifying, yet wonderfully surreal, and always consistent associations. These are poems like no other: like kaleidoscopic snapshots into the frenzied mind of the White Rabbit, glimpses of madness that somehow always seem brilliant and ultimately make perfect sense. Part of the fun of reading Self-Portrait of the Artist Afraid of His Self-Portrait is trying to figure out where Catlin’s agile mind is going to land next and always being more than pleasantly surprised at the imaginative leap he’s forced us to take.
—Robert Cooperman, author of The Long Black Veil

With the deep and voluntary introspection of what could be like offering one’s countenance and brain to be dragged raw against concrete, in Self-Portrait of the Artist Afraid of His Self-Portrait, ringmaster poet Alan Catlin conducts a circus of macabre freaks in Arbus-like, impeccably paced rumors of profound intrigue.
—Spiel

Whether darkly serious or darkly humorous—sometimes both at once—the poems in Self-Portrait of the Artist as Afraid of His Self-Portrait shine with inventive imagery, brilliant juxtapositions, and keen observations of the Self and the Other. Catlin is an original voice and always a rewarding read. In this literate journey, from self-portraits with the Invisible Man, Warhol, ukuleles, and revenants, to those with Chagall, Mae West, Francis Bacon, Max Ernst, fireworks, and much more, he plays the music of language with a surreal flair, and plays it very well.
—Bruce Boston, author of The Guardener’s Tale

“Self-Portrait with Invisible Man” and “Anonymous Self-Portrait with Ukuleles” were published in Tiger’s Eye.
“Self-Portrait with Phantom Limbs” was published in Pavement Saw.
“Self-Portrait with Cows Coming Home” was accepted for Sulphur River Review.
“Self-Portrait with Self-Portraits by Munch” and “A Formerly Repressed Self-Portrait” in Poetry at Lehani’s.
“The Crime Scene,” for Ascent Aspirations.
“Self-Portrait with Girls in the Naked Business,” “Self-Portrait with Doppleganger,” “Beckett Play Self-Portrait,” and “Self-Portrait with Francis Bacon” were published in Big Scream.
“Self-Portrait with Wallpaper Samples” will be published in Hampden-Sydney Poetry Review.
“Self-Portrait As a Kneeling Figure” was published in Decomposition Bitter Oleander.
“The Eggs of Anmesia for Star*Line,” “Self-Portrait with False Prophet in Presa,” “Self-Portraits with Portraits of J.M.W. Turner,” “Self-Portrait with Chagall,” “Self-Portrait with Hamlet’s Mother on the Battlements of Elsinor,” “Portrait of the Artist’s Brother Lying on a Bed of Nails,” “Self-Portrait with Mae West,” “Self-Portrait with an Alienist,” and “Self-Portrait as the Artist Adrift” were published in Parting Gifts.
“You’re Innocent When You Dream,” was published in Kino’s Estate Press.

Alan Catlin has recently retired from his unchosen profession as a barman to work on his creative endeavors. He is in the latter stages of a trilogy of prose works, on his experiences on the job, bearing the working title, Hours of Happiness. He has published a number of poetry books and chapbooks in recent years including two previous titles from March Street, a selected poems titled Drunk and Disorderly, from Pavement Saw Press, and the out-of-print cult favorite, The Schenectady Chainsaw Massacre.