Jamie MacInnis: Extravagant Talent [Terence Winch]

[an earlier version of this post appeared first on the now defunct Best American Poetry blog on Sept. 29, 2013.]

 In February 1977, the alluring and gifted Jamie MacInnis came to Washington DC from New York to read with Doug Lang in one of the earliest of the legendary readings at Folio Books in Dupont Circle. This reading series was, in fact, organized by Doug. But when I called him recently to check on Jamie’s memorable, though brief, visit to DC, he thought she had read with me. Neither of us has any convincing memory of the event.

 It would be hard, however, not to remember Jamie herself. She was about 35 at the time. Her one and only full-length book of poems, Practicing (Tombouctou, 1980), was still a few years in the future, but Hand Shadows, published by Larry Fagin’s Adventures in Poetry press, came out in the mid-1970s, filled with her characteristic witty, unpretentious work:

Jazz to Spare

A voice tells me there’s

jazz to spare. I don’t

know, it must be my own

voice.

“There’s jazz to spare,”

it says, but when I listen

to the music I worry that

there’s not enough to go

around.

 In December 1978, Fagin, who had a long-time on-and-off relationship with MacInnis, also published an edition of his magazine Un Poco Loco devoted to Jamie’s poems. The writing in Hand Shadows and Un Poco Loco make up most of what wound up Practicing. Jamie and I connected, shall we say, during her visit to DC and wrote to each other for about a year. I have a dozen or so wonderfully smart, funny, unguarded letters from her. One of them included a poem (“for Terry, obviously/from Jamie, obviously/ 6/77”) that later appeared in Practicing:

Irish Musician

The train starts by accident

leaving Washington D.C.

A flowered kimono lies wrinkled in my canvas bag.

The rays go dim as I travel east

out of your frequency.

You are like me

You admire people who like you.

I read your book

The Beautiful Indifference

looking for clues.

The train starts by accident

stopping in Newark.

Here, there’s a neighborhood,

Down Neck,

where people have grape arbors in their yards

next to ivy-walled factories.

Old Newark.

A man with a banjo sits in a chair.

The train starts by accident.

Big flowers.

A businessman tells me his story.

The train tells its story of people

having a drink at 80 miles per hour.

The factories go by telling their stories

in billboards and a hundred tiny windows

talking at once.

The letters stopped in early 1978, and I don’t believe I ever again heard from her. So when she came to

mind a few weeks ago, I did what we all do now—I went to Google in search of any information about

her. Two findings surprised me: one, that there was little trace of her, not even a photo; and two, the one

source I did find that mentions her at length (a book entitled Poet Be like God: Jack Spicer and the San

Francisco Renaissance by Lewis Ellingham and Kevin Killian) reveals her vivid and dramatic role,

previously unknown to me, as a 20-year-old beauty in Jack Spicer’s circle in the early 1960s:

“The daughter of a legendary trial lawyer, MacInnis was a woman of deep poise, moving with ease between the worlds of the upper class and the bohemian Beat. Among the habitués of Gino & Carlo’s, she stood out: her shining young health, beautiful bone structure, precise speech, and fine skin were a reproach to the pasty male drinkers she mixed with. She was stylish, outspoken, and lovely. ...She was extravagantly talented as a poet.”

My favorite anecdote from this book involves an encounter she had with one of her detractors among Spicer’s set who said to her, “How would you like it if we took you out in the alley and gang-raped you?” Jamie’s response: “Oh, dear, do you really consider yourselves a gang?” That come-back would take some poise.

Larry Fagin alerted me to an uncaptioned photo of Jamie from a 1964 book called Our San Francisco, which appears above in this post, along with a superb fresco (ca. 1970) of Jamie by the late George Schneeman:

Some sleuthing by Arlo Quint of the St. Mark’s Poetry Project suggests that Jamie, now 71 [i.e., in 2013] may be living in San Francisco.

Jamie MacInnis was also an addict. She writes, in “Science”: “Heroin gives you its dreams/and takes yours away...”

 [Update, Jan. 19, 2014: I made a PDF of Practicing, which Charles Bernstein has added to the Electronic Poetry Center . See this link. Some of the poems were slightly truncated in the scanning process, which I didn’t realize until too late. Apologies.]    

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Here is a sample of one of Jamie's letters, this one from 24 April 1977:

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More photos from Larry Fagin, sent in April of 2014:

On 15 Dec 2025, Charles North sent me this poem by Jamie that he and James Schuyler  published  in Broadway (1979):

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Finally, I saved the comments on the original 2013 version of this post, and offer a selection of them here:

 This history peppered with memory is truly a treasure shared. Thank you. I love the poems too!                  Posted by: Grace Cavalieri | September 29, 2013 at 04:09 PM

Another brilliant post on poets who should be more well known. I remember Jamie in New York in the 1970s as a bit of an enigma, but a beautiful one who was one of the great "poet's poets" of that time. And remains so. Thanks for bringing attention to her life and work.
    Posted by: Michael Lally | September 29, 2013 at 04:46 PM

It seems she was (is) not to be missed. You have brought her words to life for those of us who never    knew her. Thank you for thinking of Jamie MacInnis after so many years.
    Posted by: Beth Joselow | September 29, 2013 at 04:52 PM

Lovely piece and lovely poems.
    Posted by: Aram Saroyan | September 29, 2013 at 05:06 PM

Good poetry, interesting person. Wish Id known her.
    Posted by: Toby Thompson | September 29, 2013 at 06:24 PM

Perfect description of how it feels when trains start! Thank you—I don't know how else I'd ever have stumbled upon this poem, or this woman's life.
    Posted by: Holly Stewart | September 29, 2013 at 08:00 PM

This line: "You are like me

You admire people who like you.

I read your book

The Beautiful Indifference

looking for clues," strikes some kind of authentic "boing" on my inner radar. It's one of those things, once said, or written, that seems like a penetrating glimpse into the obvious. But in actuality it makes a deeper cut because it lures you in as it critiques your interest.

Yet another interesting post by Terence Winch. Like the Roman philosopher he uses one "R" in the spelling of his name knowing that taking up less space on the page gives you more to say.
    Posted by: Michael O'Keefe | September 29, 2013 at 08:22 PM

Thanks, Michael [Lally]. You receive several honorable mentions in her letters.
    Posted by: Terence Winch | September 29, 2013 at 08:34 PM

Jamie was a presence in New York when I lived there, her poems delicate and elegant. I always remember her wistful poem about the cartoons in the New Yorker -- full of the weight of her various pasts. Thanks Terry for bringing her back into the light.
    Posted by: Simon Schuchat | September 29, 2013 at 10:30 PM

Finding missing pieces in the collective puzzle, giving them a polish and putting them back, thank you Terence Winch. Indran
    Posted by: Indran Amirthanayagam | September 30, 2013 at 08:48 AM

Wonderful piece—& kind of wonderful to know people can still be elusive in this day & age. Thanks, TPW.
    Posted by: Elinor Nauen | September 30, 2013 at 09:16 AM

Terence Winch's BAP post deserves the encomium expressed above. His vivid recollections, unforced insights, and seemingly effortless wit combine to render familiar subjects new and unfamiliar subjects somehow familiar. His is a rare talent, capable of bringing a bright spotlight to writers and writings that illuminates what we did not know and what we thought we knew but didn't about them. Bravo, Terence!
    Posted by: Earle Hitchner | September 30, 2013 at 11:42 AM

great poems & great event. if only to have been there, for either you and doug, or doug and jamie, or jamie and you.
    Posted by: Dan Gutstein | September 30, 2013 at 03:26 PM

jamie,I see her then, good poems, great smoker, leaning in eye-to-eye, slightly turned, listening. Like the poems.
    Posted by: Ted Greenwald | September 30, 2013 at 03:54 PM

This is a lovely appreciation. I am delighted to know that there are writers like Terence Winch who    write so well about the lives and work of their peers. The community of poets.
    Posted by: Eamonn Wall | September 30, 2013 at 09:23 PM

A fantastic send up. I read POET BE LIKE GOD when it first hit the streets. I got it from the UTEP library. The digging must continue here. There's a good chance, I bet, that she's dead. Most junkies I knew are. Some cleaned up. Perhaps, perhaps...I need to get her book...thanks…
    Posted by: Lawrence Welsh | October 01, 2013 at 05:59 PM

There are certain poets who seem to have been ordained with a kind of purity, who are totally present in their work, but not in a way that suggests their "ownership" of the poem. I think of John Godfrey in New York, and Chris Mason in Baltimore. And Jamie MacInnis, wherever she may be. I remember being in awe of the poems in Hand Shadows and Un Poco Loco. I do hope that she is alive and well.

I am so grateful to you for posting this wonderful portrait of Jamie, Terence. It is a great service to those who are familiar with her, and to those who are meeting her for the first time through your words (and her own).

I agree with Earle Hitchner's comment (above).
    Posted by: Doug Lang | October 03, 2013 at 04:00 PM

Thanks, Doug. It's all your fault.
    Posted by: Terence Winch | October 03, 2013 at 06:20 PM

Poetry speaks to all of us in a special way. Jamie MacInnis poems are true and wonderful.
    Posted by: Eileen Reich | October 04, 2013 at 10:19 AM

Thanks for this. For some reason I seem to recall her being close friends with Jane Bliss Nodlund, but I could be mixed up.
    Posted by: Susie Timmons | October 05, 2013 at 12:36 AM

Thank u so much for this. I've always been so curious about her & what her poems were like. What a sweet surprise. L, Dana
    Posted by: Dana Ward | October 05, 2013 at 12:04 PM

Thanks, Dana. It's actually a nice surprise to me that you were even aware of her.
    Posted by: Terence Winch | October 06, 2013 at 09:00 AM

I'm joining the chorus. (Or should I be joining the choir?) This is a truly graceful piece, a lovely think. Was it Ezra Pound who said, "Art must make the difficult seem easy." That's what you do, Terence.
    Posted by: William McPherson | October 07, 2013 at 02:03 PM

For those of us who knew Jamie Macinnis in San Francisco in the 1980s, she remains a star. Her style seemed effortless, and probably was. The telling remark, in a poem quoted here, about the damage drugs do to dreams, is an example of how simply such devastation can be described, and was understood by her. That she may still be alive is a wonder.
    Posted by: Lewis Ellingham | October 08, 2013 at 12:17 PM

Thanks, Lewis, and thanks too for your book. I just got off the phone with the librarian at the Jamie A. MacInnis Memorial Library at the Art Institute of California-San Francisco, having called there wondering if somehow Jamie had wound up as a librarian. But it seems that "Jamie A. MacInnis" (also a poet) died in 2007 at ca. age 50, so they are not connected. How many SF poets named Jamie MacInnis could there be?
    Posted by: Terence Winch | October 08, 2013 at 01:48 PM

Lovely weave of words and pictures, Terry. Thanks as always.
    Posted by: Charles Fanning | October 27, 2013 at 01:10 PM

Hi. I wonder if you know where to get a copy of Jamie's books? I never knew her, but know many people who knew her intimately, including her former sister in law. I love what I've read of hers and want to read more. Thanks.
    Posted by: Dotty | July 11, 2020 at 12:53 PM

I imagine that copies of "Practicing" must sometimes come available in the rare book marketplace. You'd just have to search Amazon, ABC books et al. Checking just now, I see that the Electronic Poetry Center does not seem to have the PDF of the book on the site. Too bad. Larry Fagin, who probably would have known where to look, has passed away since I put up this post. Sorry I can't be of more help.
    Posted by: Terence Winch | July 11, 2020 at 01:28 PM

She actually is! With us. Not with me. But alive, and in touch with folks.
    Posted by: Dotty | October 04, 2020 at 07:41 PM

I'm very happy to hear this. If you are in contact with her, please tell her that I said hello.
    Posted by: Terence Winch | October 04, 2020 at 08:10 PM

I knew Jamie & her family well. she lived with me for a time & wrote my name in glitter & glue on an old family piece of furniture of ours which I still have & see every day.
    Posted by: Jane W | January 22, 2021 at 01:33 PM

Jane--- Thanks for your comment. When did you know Jamie, and do you know what eventually became of her?
    Posted by: Terence Winch | January 22, 2021 at 02:48 PM

Jamie & Her Daughter lived with me in my parents house in San Francisco at different times in the 1980's-90's. I loved her, a brilliant tragic figure. her daughter too. I believe Jamie has passed. I spent a lot of time with her & know much more than anyone should be privy to. so sad. I hate knowing what I will never be able to forget. seeing the pictures above brought me to tears. what a life she endured here on this spinning granite planet. I hope her spirit is at peace.
    Posted by: James McLennon | July 29, 2021 at 11:55 AM

James---Thanks for this information. I've always regretted that Jamie seemed to have disappeared from the literary landscape. She was a really good poet. My friend David Beaudouin also emailed me today to say that he thinks he found a current location for her in Oakland. If she is still alive, it would be great if someone could contact her, do an interview, etc.
    Posted by: Terence Winch | July 29, 2021 at 12:04 PM

I 'll never forget Jamie's warm, communicate presence Jamie dedicated "Practicing" to me when I was living at the Piano Factory in Boston, a treasured book.
    Posted by: bertrand laurence | December 15, 2021 at 12:41 PM

Coming upon this ten years late and wondering what difference time has made. I knew Jamie and loved being in her presence, so focused on listening, so clear in responding. I once visited her brief apartment on 4th street and Ave A in NYC, in the late 70s. I remember standing in the bathroom, admiring, with her, the grand walk-in shower with glass door, with the one inch octagonal tiles so common to NY and in DiRoberti's cafe many of us frequented. Jamie was so preciously centered on the core of people and spoke to many of us in her poems one-on-one. Thank you for this.
    Posted by: Carol Szamatowicz | June 07, 2022 at 06:35 PM

Carol: thanks for adding your memory of her to this post.
    Posted by: Terence Winch | June 07, 2022 at 07:56 PM

I agree with the verse and sentiments expressed and alluded to above. Jamie MacInnis, Doug Lang, Larry Fagin, and of course Terence Winch speak or are cited with the kind of intense fondness that becomes almost tactile through vivid memories and recollections. What a consummate treat!
    Posted by: Dr. Earle Hitchner | September 27, 2025 at 02:23 PM

Thanks, Earle. This post on Jamie is one of my favorites.
    Posted by: Terence Winch | September 27, 2025 at 05:16 PM

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