Issue Five

These three guys like to fool around and they’ve been doing it in print since 1981. Slipstream Magazine is not your average literary journal, because Robert Borgatti, Lee Farallo and Dan Sicoli are not your average hometown editors. First and foremost they are friends who love poetry. It’s our region’s good fortune that they just happen to be lifelong residents of Niagara County, NY.

As students at Niagara University, their first work together as editors was an act of rebellion. The campus literary magazine at the time was called the Aquilla, and Lee remembers it as “very pastoral, religious, and harmless.” They were inspired to create an alternative press called Nomad to offer the student body what Bob refers to as “anti-Hallmark poetry.” The darned thing caught on.

Initially they were naive enough to fantasize about printing everything they received. This particular brand of editorial generosity lasted for only one issue. Nomad quickly became an extension of their personalities. Dan says, “there were a lot of beer and bar poems at the time.” It’s not surprising, then, that they also played together in a garage rock band called Reflector–Lee on percussion, Bob played keyboards and bass guitar, and Dan strummed guitar. Everybody sang.

The guys enjoyed editing so much that after graduation they decided to keep at it independently. They named their spin off venture for a Jethro Tull lyric: “And you spin in the slipstream/timeless-unreasoning/paddle right out of the mess.” Out of the misty rapids of the Niagara Gorge paddled Slipstream. Dan thought the title had “too sweet a sound.”

At first, the magazine was a typical newborn: existing on a self-funded shoestring, quite a bit of sweat equity, and the benevolence of key players like Graphic Services of Niagara Falls. Dan describes them as a “mom and pop organization” whose rates were “dirt-cheap.” Graphic Services, he continues, “let us be really hands on, doing our own collating to save money. They really helped us stay afloat in the early years.” Eventually Graphic Services went out of business and Hignell Printing out of Manitoba, Canada approached Slipstream.

All the more remarkable that the guys were able to start printing chapbooks as well. The magazine always had inserts, either a postcard or a bookmark, and these sparked the idea to publish chaps. These small books offer a necessary literary option to the often-daunting task of finding a publisher willing to print an emerging writers’ work. In 1986 they sponsored their first annual contest allowing Slipstream Press to expand.

They are proud to have published early chaps by writers who later earned significant critical acclaim. Past winners include Gerald Locklin, Sherman Alexie and Alison Pelegrin. J.P. Dancing Bear won this year's contest. They do admit that the chapbook competition tends to bring out droves of submissions with, what Bob terms, “a pretentious, macho attitude.” They also have to wade knee deep through the “Bukowski posers.” Additionally, there are numerous submissions from the halls of academia, but as a rule, Lee observes, “a lot of academic poetry just doesn’t have the grounding in real life or the honesty that is the ‘Slipstream style’.”

Having grown into a press, the guys decided it was time to grow their finances as well. Their first attempt to win a grant from the New York State Council on the Arts (NYSCA) fizzled largely, according to Lee, “because we had no idea what we were doing!” But they persevered, and eventually received funding: first from the Niagara Council for the Arts, and then from NYSCA. Lee informs, their funding “does not limit content in any way. They’ve never commented at all, one way or another on the magazine, except to say they’re glad to have a journal in this region.” The nationally known Poets & Writers Magazine has provided past support for public readings, and just buffalo literary center has also co-sponsored a couple of local events. The remainder of their funding comes from subscriptions and contest fees.

Their growing savvy wasn’t limited to the business of publishing. They’ve become more astute editors, as well. Dan confides, “You’d be surprised at the people we’ve rejected.” They don’t feel it’s worth compromising the magazine by including a substandard poem just to have a famous name in the table of contents.

The poems and short fiction featured in Slipstream do not shy away from tackling subjects with strong emotional undercurrents. Within its pages you will find poems that speak explicitly of problems inherent to family and community life. These poems have straightforward sexual content, and more often than not offer thought provoking social or political commentary. They have produced a few ‘themed’ issues; they all agree that “Sex, Food and Death” got the biggest response. “Some poems hit all three!” laughs Lee. Despite the magazine’s gritty feel, no one gender is really better at the style. “Men and women are equally mediocre,” Dan wryly observes. You will find an occasional Slipstream poem imbued with vulgarity, but you will also find, as evidenced in our selection of poems to showcase here in Traffic East, a willingness to offer original poems that define the human spirit.

Have their sensibilities changed much over time? “No,” insists Lee, with a straight face, “I still like women.” Bob believes “We’re not as hot on the hard edged stuff.” “We’ve matured,” adds Dan. And Lee: “We’re no longer limited to beer and barroom poetry because of the volume of our submissions.”

Today, Slipstream’s operation is seamless. With thousands of submissions annually, their methods are, by necessity, simple and efficient. In preparation for their weekly meeting, Dan gets the mail and they all read through the submissions individually. Poems of interest get a note on their envelope so that they can be read aloud at the meeting. Lee states “most of the time we accept or reject a piece as is–there’s no acceptance with changes–it’s either a yes or a no.” “Honesty is the most important barometer,” for Bob. “Good poetry has to emerge from life experiences.” “Often good poems come in, but they’re not in the Slipstream style,” relates Dan. “We look for work that is readily understandable, has emotional impact, communicates place, but is not simplistic.” There is almost always unanimity in their decisions, though sometimes they’ll let a poem sit and come back to it if one or two of them aren’t sure about it. Do they ever ask a fourth person’s opinion? “Never,” Lee replies, “we three kings of Orient are!”

Slipstream’s submissions run the gamut: envelopes have arrived from as far away as China and Australia, containing work in languages other than English. They’ve received the occasional recipe along with poems written in crayon. Once, Dan even received a phone call from a man in France, confusing them with an aeronautical publication. They get a kick out of the incoherent cover letters; one writer admitted that he’d visited 7 counties and liked to play trombone in the nude! Among the more rewarding items arriving in their mail are the letters expressing readers’ enjoyment of their magazine.

Slipstream’s art has grown as well. At first, they didn’t publish much artwork, because they didn’t have the resources to print it properly. Now that they are able, they take care to make sure the art they choose works with the poetry, rather than distract from it. The inclusion of photography, Bob believes, makes it “difficult to throw away a copy.” As a rule, he continues, they “like the continuity of one or two artists per issue.” In fact, this is one area that they would like to keep developing, especially if they can use local talent.

Strong bonds make the difference in adversity. Time and money continue to be constant challenges, but Bob understands that “it wouldn’t be as much fun if we had unlimited money.” Over the years if one guy was having a tough time and couldn’t come up with either the necessary time or money to contribute, the other two were there to “pick up the slack” and keep Slipstream happening. It’s that commitment, to each other and their press, that makes Slipstream a labor of love. Dan: “When it has your sweat in it, it’s more like art.”

There have been some sensational bumps in the road, like when a chapbook they published seriously offended some of their readers. The chapbook concerned sexual abuse by a priest, with all of the poems written from a different point of view of someone involved in the story. “If you read it correctly, it in no way condoned that behavior, but some people misread it and were offended,” noted Lee.

They also learned the hard way to proofread carefully from a printed manuscript: the Slipstream Press publication of “A Constituency of Dunces” by Gerald Locklin was typeset by a student, and the editors only proofed from the terminal screen. The final copy had dozens of errors. Having each other makes it easier to persevere through misfortune and embarrassment. It makes it easier to take reviewers with a grain of salt, too. When asked if they’ve ever had any bad reviews, Bob quipped “stupid, not bad!”

Their relationship to their community is as significant as their relationship to each other. Having grown up in Niagara Falls, NY, they are all too familiar with its problems. As adults and committed residents they have matured into activists who are genuinely interested in improving their community. All three have been involved with the Niagara Heritage Partnership. Bob produced the award winning documentary “Fading in the Mist.” It chronicles the “history and ongoing struggle for scenic and environmental preservation at Niagara Falls.” He holds a Master’s degree in Television and Film, and is a professor of Library/Multimedia Resources at Niagara County Community College (NCCC). Lee is an associate professor of biology at NCCC and also organizes the just buffalo literary center open reading series. Dan is a letter carrier and has worked at a variety of other vocations including baker, housing co-coordinator and even cheese packing.

This isn’t to say that their own writing is a reflection of their work or activism. All three keep their work life distinctly separate from their writing. Dan says, “I write life experiences, not necessarily work experiences.” Bob adds, “my writing is more visual because I work in video, but that’s the only connection.” Their core metaphors are more revealing. These are metaphors that repeat throughout a writer’s body of work, sometimes forming a theme larger than any one piece. For Bob, “it’s childhood.” Dan finds he returns to “personal relationships and character.” Lee at first couldn’t think of a core metaphor for himself, so his buddies stepped in to say he was “more inwardly focused, our resident philosopher.”

In the end, though, what makes Slipstream work is the profound and productive relationship of its three editors. “We could be going bowling,” jokes Bob. “Yeah, we meet to get away from our wives for a while,” affirms Dan. When asked where they see Slipstream in the small press-publishing world Lee asserts that they are “Kings!” Bob corrects: “self proclaimed kings!” And Lee adds “in an ebony tower!” Michael Basinski, the curator of the prestigious rare books collection at SUNY Buffalo, houses a complete Slipstream collection. He writes, “Slipstream should now be canonized as a Saint of poetry magazines. Slipstream has been around longer than most marriages, your children, your car, the place you now live in, the wine you were saving, the life span of whales and gazelles… the OJ trial and John Denver…” Here’s hoping we all can continue to count on the friendship of a few good men.

In Buffalo, Slipstream can be purchased at both locations of Talking Leaves Books, Rust Belt Books on Allen Street, and in Niagara Falls, NY at The Book Corner. Purchases can also be made online at www.slipstreampress.org, or by writing to Slipstream, Box 2071, Niagara Falls, NY 14301. There are audio and video selections available at their website, as well as the magazines and chapbooks. Back issues can be purchased at most of these locations, as well as The Second Reader on Hertel Avenue. There are 500-700 copies printed annually, and they always sell out.