Dorothea Lasky

Upcoming Summer Readings

2011-05-30T09:40:00.000-07:00

June 4, con/crescent press Reading, Fergie's Pub, Phila., PA, 7:30 p.m. More info here.

June 7, White Swallow Reading Series, 29 Cornelia St., NY, NY, 6 p.m. More info here.

June 24, Juniper Summer Writing Institute, Amherst, MA, 7:30 p.m. More info here.

August 12, Wilde Boys: a queer poetry salon, New York, NY, 7:30 p.m. More info here.

For all other news, please visit my main website: www.birdinsnow.com.

Upcoming Spring Readings

2011-02-28T22:00:00.001-08:00

March 9, Southern Writers Reading Series, 7:30 pm. More info here.

March 10, Reading for Blake Butler's new book There is No Year, 7 pm. More info here.

March 27, Birthday Reading, 6 pm: Brooklyn, Unnameable Books, w/ Lonely Christopher, Emily Pettit, and Ben Fama

April 1, Bernadette Mayer symposium. Details here.

April 12, Ugly Duckling Presse Periodically Speaking (CLMP) event, 6 pm, New York Public Library main branch (Stephen A. Schwarzman Building) at Fifth Avenue and 42nd Street. Details here and here.

April 14, Metrorhythm Reading Series: http://metrorhythm.wordpress.com/2011/03/03/dorothea-lasky-to-read-in-april/

April 19, Reading with Matthew Rohrer, 7 pm: Community Bookstore

April 26, Gurlesque Reading, 6 pm: ACA Gallery

May 2, KGB Bar Reading with Star Black and David Yezzi, 7 pm. More info here.

May 8, Jubilant Thicket with Stan Mir and William McGuire, 5 pm. Walking Fish Theatre, Phila.,PA. More info HERE.

May 18, Projection Reading Series: more information

May 26, Reading at Drexel University, 11 am and then Gurlesque reading at 6pm at the Athenaeum.

For all other news, please visit my main website: www.birdinsnow.com.

Bird in Snow

2010-07-06T20:12:00.001-07:00

Hello!

I could care less about Lindsay Lohan going to jail, sorry about that.

However, I do care about the heatwave.

Ok, ok, here's why I am writing this post: I think I am going to start blogging more at my old site, Bird in Snow. Here you go, here it is.

Please visit it! The three redbirds on it will be happy if you do.

Good-bye!

Two things

2010-05-28T06:45:00.000-07:00

Two new poems at The Awl: DL at The Awl

Philadelphia reading at Mostly Books (529 Bainbridge) at 8 p.m. tonight with Ben Fama and Kevin Varrone. Hope to see you there!

notnostrums

2010-04-12T16:53:00.000-07:00

I am so excited to be included in the fourth issue of notnostrums.

Here are my poems in the issue.

Here is the entire issue.

Good-bye.

Poetry is Not a Project and Interview

2010-04-06T08:35:00.000-07:00

Hello

My new chapbook Poetry is Not a Project is just out from Ugly Duckling Presse. More information HERE.

Read an interview I did with Joshua Bolton on Wolf in a Field here.

Thank you

Bird in Snow site

2010-03-30T19:38:00.000-07:00

Hello!

Wanted you to know: I have another blog. It is www.birdinsnow.com.

Please visit it whenever you feel like it. I will be updating it semi-regularly in the following months.

To leave you: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=u5fEfaXBl_c
(I hate the drugs part of that video, but it is the only video I can find of that song.)

Live reading tonight

2010-03-03T12:14:00.001-08:00

Hello!

I will be reading live tonight on HTMLgiant.

Announcement and link here.

Hope to see you there!

How I feel

2010-02-22T03:06:00.001-08:00

This is how I feel right now.

Updated Reading Schedule Blog

2010-02-17T15:21:00.000-08:00

I am going to start to updating my reading schedule blog again, in case anyone wanted to see me read sometime.

Here is a list of readings I am doing this month.

Poem in this week's New Yorker magazine

2010-02-08T06:03:00.002-08:00

Hello!

Please check out my poem in this week's New Yorker magazine: Tornado

Additional important information:

Looks like some form of me near the eye of the storm.

Tornado facts

Also, this what the poem is about.

****

If you like my poem, please buy my new book Black Life.

Poetry Society of America Desert Island Discs

2009-12-08T17:21:00.000-08:00

If you ever wanted to know what I would like to listen to if stranded on a deserted island, you may now know:

My Deserted Island Disc Selections

Arts Ed Issue of Urban Ed Journal

2009-12-02T20:57:00.000-08:00

Hello! Please check out the special Arts Ed issue of the Urban Education Journal:

http://www.urbanedjournal.org/

Lightful Press Book Release Party

2009-11-03T15:00:00.000-08:00

Lightful Press is having a Book Release Party this week. If you are in the area, please attend. Here is their announcement:

Book Release Party

Announcing a book party and reading hosted by LATR Editions and Lightful Press at Melville House Books in Brooklyn on Wednesday, Nov. 4th, at 7pm. Poets Heather Green and Ernest Hilbert will read from their new poetry chapbooks from LATR Editions. Lightful Press will celebrating the publication of Play by poet Liz Waldner with a theatrical reading from the book. Books by all the authors will be available for sale. Free beer and wine will be served.

Melville House Books is located at 145 Plymouth Street in DUMBO, Brooklyn, near the York Street stop on the F train.

www.lightfulpress.com
http://latr.tumblr.com/

Find out more here.

2009-09-10T01:01:00.000-07:00

Two Weeks - Grizzly Bear from Gabe Askew on Vimeo.

Eric Baus feature

2009-07-09T11:57:00.001-07:00

Check out this feature on Eric Baus.

Also, check out this interview in Jacket magazine between Eric Baus and Cynthia Arrieu-King.

Peace on A readings are now on PennSound

2009-07-03T18:15:00.000-07:00

Check out Thom Donovan's Peace on A reading series recordings now on PennSound.

Here are some beautiful readings by Thom Donovan on PennSound.

Here is my PennSound page in case you'd like to go there.

CUE Journal

2009-07-01T07:24:00.001-07:00

The spectacular journal CUE is now online. I think it looks divinely beautiful. Many cheers to Mark Horosky and Morgan Lucas Schuldt.

The main page is here.

The first issue is here, where you can find poems and stories by moi and others.

One of the poems on there is called "The Poetry that is going to matter after you are dead." I once read that poem on Weird Deer. This recording can be found here. The beautiful drawing you see featured with the recording is by Camilla Schofield.

Over and out.

"Little Cloud" by The Incredible String Band and I am reading tomorrow night

2009-05-28T18:38:00.000-07:00

How sweet to be a cloud, floating in the blue.

Lying awake, late the other night
Heard above me a trembling,
I looked up, it was a little cloud,
From which a gold string was dangling;
You know, I gave the string a little pull,
Just to see what was on the other end.
Just then a voice came down to me, says,
"Hey, now, don't you want to be my friend,

And float with me to distant lands,
wondrous and fair;
Float with me to distant lands wondrous and fair?
You see I'm just a happy little cloud,
I laugh and float and sing my song,
But the other clouds don't like me none.
They say I am behaving very wrong.
You see a cloud's supposed to be sad,
To cry and weep and tear its hair and all,
And don't matter how hard I try,
I can't get the first little tear to fall."

And float with me to distant lands, wondrous and fair;
Float with me to distant lands, wondrous and fair;

I said, "Hey, I like you little cloud,
You are a nice little fellow, yes."
"You making some, kind of a joke?", said the cloud,
"Now can't you see I'm wearing such a pretty dress?
You see I am the prettiest little chick cloud
That you'd find anywhere up above.
I just dropped in on you awhile
To see if you could give me some kind of love."

And float with me to distant lands, wondrous and fair;
Float with me to distant lands wondrous and fair;

Just then the chief cloud come into view
And says, "Hey, girl, now what you think you're doing there?
I told you so many times before
You just don't seem at all to care.
You know you should be floating up above, now
Don't let me catch you down here again."

And as my cloud pulled out of view,
There come failing down a gentle shower of rain.
Happy rain come failing down,
Red, green, blue and golden.
And every drop, as it fell, it smiled
And, throwing back its head, began singing,

"Oh float with me to distant lands, wondrous and fair;
Float with me to distant lands, wondrous and fair."

Information about my reading tomorrow night:

THE INFORMATION YOU NEED TO MAKE IT RIGHT

Reading tomorrow, 5/18

2009-05-17T13:28:00.000-07:00

Hi! I'm reading tomorrow night in celebration of the magazine 12th Street.

Here is the information:

Celebrate the publication of 12th Street, a literary magazine edited and published by students in The New School Writing and Democracy Program Conversation Group

Luis Jaramillo hosts an evening with Mark Bibbins, Douglas A. Martin, Sigrid Nunez, Dorothea Lasky & students.

Monday May 18, 2009 7:00 PM

Union Square Barnes and Noble
33 East 17th Street, New York, NY 10003, 212-253-0810

Eric Baus and Ish Klein read in Philly THIS SATURDAY NIGHT

2009-05-08T06:49:00.000-07:00

Here is the Chapter and Verse announcement for Eric Baus and Ish Klein's reading on Saturday. Their books are two of my favorite books that have come out this year:

Hello Everybody,

This Saturday, May 9th at 8:00pm
at Chapterhouse Cafe
620 S. 9th St

Come listen to poetry by

Eric Baus & Ish Klein

For more info: http://chapterhousereadings.blogspot.com/
http://www.myspace.com/chapterhouse

See you soon,
Ryan

************************************************************
Bios:

Ish Klein is a self-taught film and puppet maker who also writes
poems. She is an alumna of Columbia University and the Iowa Writer's
Workshop for Poetry. In 2005, she was awarded the National Endowment
of the Arts Digital Filmmaker Residency. Her poems have been published
in Bridge,The Canary, Gare du Nord, and more recently in Hat magazine,
X-connect, Big Bridge, Spork and Gut Cult. Her new book, UNION!, is
just out from Canarium Press.

Eric Baus was born in Fort Wayne, Indiana in 1975. His publications
include Tuned Droves (Octopus Books, 2009), The To Sound (Verse Press,
2004; Winner of the 2002 Verse Press, selected by Forrest Gander), and
the chapbooks The Space Between Magnets (Diaeresis), A Swarm In The
Aperture (Margin to Margin), and Something Else The Music Was
(Braincase Press). He edits Minus House chapbooks, and currently lives
in Denver.

****Also, if you'd like to take a sneak peak at Eric Baus and Ish Klein reading, check out this.

Reading at the Poetry Project next Monday, 5/4

2009-05-01T12:03:00.001-07:00

I am reading at the Poetry Project this upcoming Monday, 5/4.

More information can be found here.

I am reading tonite

2009-04-30T09:11:00.000-07:00

I am reading tonight in NYC. Here is the information:

Apr 30 POETRY AT A PUBLIC SPACE

Please join us on Dean Street to celebrate National Poetry Month with
readings by APS contributors and friends Mary Jo Bang, Dorothea Lasky, and
Matthew Rohrer.

A Public Space
323 Dean Street
Brooklyn, NY
7:00 pm

It's for the great journal A Public Space. Please come by if you can!

Don't miss this

2009-04-29T09:04:00.001-07:00

SUPERMACHINE GARDEN BLOWOUT POETRY PARTY
Saturday, May 2, 6:00 PM
Outpost Lounge
1014 Fulton Street (Grand and Classon)
G to Clinton/Washington, C to Franklin

In honor of the one-year anniversary of SUPERMACHINE reading series, they are having a big party! It is at the Outpost Lounge, and hopefully if the weather is nice we will read outside, in the garden.

Featuring Readings by:

Edmund Berrigan
Corina Copp
Garth Graeper
Kristen Kosmas
Joey Calavenna
Lee Norton
Dustin Payseur
Ben Fama

Bands: Holy Spirits, Bogge Burnsa, Tajalli

CHECK OUT THE WEBSITE
www.supermachinepoetry.blogspot.com

2009-04-25T20:21:00.000-07:00

but you'll never see the end of the road when you're traveling with me

Poetry is Not A Project

2009-04-24T13:19:00.001-07:00

Here's my National Poetry Month piece up at The Millions: Poetry is Not a Project.

If you live in NYC, please come to my Supermachine Reading Series reading tonight @ 8 p.m. with Paul Killebrew and Laura Solomon. Details are below and on the link.

Packer Collegiate Day 1

2009-04-22T02:50:00.000-07:00

Introductions

Name Acrostic Poems

Example 1
Example 2
Interactive

D aring
O riginal
T elepathic
T he Truth is my Goal
I like ice-cream
E lephants are my favorite animals

I know D ottie is my name but still
peOple always spell it Dotty
That is not my name
Truth be told
Igloos are very cold
But igloos are not my namE either

What is a poem?

Poems are things that pay attention to the way words look and sound.

"Stars" by Robert Frost
"January" by Alice Notley
"I'm nobody! Who are you?" by Emily Dickinson

"Bats"
"Rainbow Poem"

1. Romulus and Remus IM Plays/ Dialogue Poems

About Romulus and Remus

A Play

Sample Dialogue

Sample IM conversation

Write an IM conversation between Romulus and Remus 30 entries long

Romulus: Hi
Remus: Hey
Romulus: Funny about Rome.
Remus: Yeah.

[Read aloud]

2. The Silk Road and Flarf

About The Silk Road

Have you ever been somewhere where the weather is very bad?
Have you ever imagined being somewhere where the weather is very bad?

Robert Frost "Fire and Ice"

Flarf Poetry

POEM
(by Matt Cozart)

Soon, everything will make sense
Courtesy of miscreant noise
Drawing another kind of national attention
In the championships for two-men teams,
An exhibition of new works on paper,
Canvas, and mixed media
Tearing it up at the ramp.
These days are not derailed but in December.

The grand plan of developers encompassed the entire peninsula
And included the smell of burning rubber,
Another act I had been on the fence about whose works
Reverberate off each other in a low hum
As part of a significant hand in the early millennial union of
Experimental noise and the bookmaking process.

Flarf exercise

1. Pick one kind of extreme weather
2. Name the place where this weather is (this place can be real or imagined)
3. Write down a list of 20 adjectives you might use to describe this weather or place
4. Search 10 (or more, depending on the time it is now) of these terms in Google
5. For each search, copy a sentence, phrase, or word from the fifth thing that comes up in your search into your Word document
6. Spend some time rearranging your finds
7. Title your poem. Your title should have the name of your place in it, but it can be anything.

[Read aloud]

Paul Killebrew, Laura Solomon, and Me This Friday

2009-04-21T13:48:00.000-07:00

I am reading this Friday with Paul Killebrew and Laura Solomon. The announcement is as follows (and the flyer is above):

Bros and Brills,

This friday SUPERMACHINE proudly brings Dorothea Lasky, Paul Killebrew, and Laura Solomon to the Outpost Lounge. Expect drink specials including amazing sangria coffee tea wine beer soda and of course beautiful beautiful poetry!

Outpost Lounge
1014 Fulton (between Grand and Classon)
C train to Franklin, G train to Clinton-Washington

The reading starts at 8 p.m.

The Laurel Review and Style is Joy

2009-04-09T14:02:00.000-07:00

The Laurel Review recently published two of my poems in its Winter 2009 issue. The journal can be purchased as is specified below:

Subscriptions to The Laurel Review are $10 per year, $18 for two years.

Individual Copies: $7.00
Available Back Issues: $5.00
Chapbooks are $7.00

Make checks payable to:

GreenTower Press
Department of English
Northwest Missouri State University
800 University Drive
Maryville, MO 64468

Possibly there is an online purchase method on their website as well.

My two poems in the issue are: "Style is Joy" and "Word." I read the entire issue today, as I was locked out of my apartment for a while and had only my mailbox key (where the journals were) with me. The whole issue is very good.

One of my poems, "Style is Joy," I wrote in response to a Goodreads review of my book, AWE. I have found that most poets I know either hate or love the Goodreads site. I have no strong feeling about it whatsoever, but I do think that it must be good for something if it caused me to think about an issue regarding poetry. The issue I thought of in my poem "Style is Joy" is that some readers of poetry seem to have the idea that style is a bad thing in art, and in poetry especially. Or, more so, it seems that some readers of poetry think that some poetry can actually exist without style and thus, *get to* a more truthful or sincere emotion with so-called raw language. I think that's quite an impossible endeavor. To me, there is no such thing as raw art, especially not if it is real art. And I think the search for rawness or sincerity in art is a useless task, as art is always a combination of the real and the unreal. And the combination always makes something refined away from the truth, at least a little bit. (Dare I mention here the Dickinson line about telling the truth slant? No, I won't dare.) But I think this because I think style is joy. I hope you do, too, or that some point, you might entertain the idea.

I read with Gary Parrish, Told Colby, and Buck Downs a few weeks back at the Bowery Poetry Club and Gary Parrish was nice enough to tape record me reading "Style is Joy" for a project he is doing. Here's the link to the video of the poem:

Style is Joy

It's all over now Baby Blue (1965)

2009-03-20T10:23:00.001-07:00

Earshot Reading on my birthday

2009-03-16T05:38:00.001-07:00

If you free on 3/27 and in the NYC area, please come to this reading:

EARSHOT MEETS SMALL PRESS MONTH!

We join forces with SMALL PRESS MONTH at Rose Live Music in Williamsburg, Brooklyn!

Friday, March 27th at 8 PM
@ Rose Live Music
Admission: $5 + FREE DRINK!

Hosted by Nicole Steinberg

Featuring:
*An Official SMALL PRESS MONTH Event*
Amy Lemmon (Saint Nobody; Red Hen Press)
Dorothea Lasky (Awe; Wave Books)
Adam Fitzgerald (Columbia University)
Christine Kanownik (The New School)
Tanya Rey (One Story & New York University)

ROSE LIVE MUSIC is located at 345 Grand Street in Brooklyn, between Havemeyer and Marcy. Visit their website for directions: http://liveatrose.com.

To view the Small Press Month Official Calendar, visit http://smallpressmonth.org.

EARSHOT is a bi-monthly reading series, dedicated to featuring new and emerging literary talent in the NYC area. Visit http://www.earshotnyc.com for more information or e-mail Nicole Steinberg at earshotnyc@gmail.com.

Ethnography in Education Research Forum tomorrow and Michelle Taransky on Twitter

2009-02-26T19:31:00.001-08:00

I am presenting my paper, "Making Room for Creativity in the Engineering Design Classroom," in the Ethnography in Education Research Forum at the Graduate School of Education at UPenn. My presentation starts at 2:30 p.m. Please come if you can. More information regarding the conference can be found here.

In other news, my cousin Michelle Taransky just joined Twitter! Please follow her updates at beginningthe.

Reading and A Show

2009-02-23T13:01:00.000-08:00

I am reading with Noelle Kocot this Wednesday, 2/25, at 7 p.m. in NYC.

Here is the address:

Home Sweet Home
131 Chrystie Street

More information can be found here.

It is an honor to read with Noelle Kocot. She is one of my favorite poets of all time. I remember a few years ago, teaching her poems in many poetry classes, screaming at the top of my lungs about their importance. For example, in The Raving Fortune, the color green is everywhere and it is very important. "Green!" I used to shout to all my students, while some looked on bewildered and others nodded in understanding. It is my great luck to share my work alongside such a great poet like Noelle.

Speaking of greatness, on the same night as my reading there is some great theater happening right down the street. Laboratory Theater is performing "GIT ALONG LIL DOGGIES" on 161 Chrystie Street at both 7 p.m. and 9 p.m. If you were asking for my advice, I might advise to you to catch my reading and then make their 9 p.m. show. Or, if you are pressed for time Wednesday night, catch their 7 p.m. show and see me read another time. Although this latter option is not the kind of advice I would give. Still, you should not miss one of their shows. Here is the address information:

161 Chrystie Street (btw Rivington and Delancey)

More information can be found here.

Hope to see you on Wednesday!

I am reading in Buffalo, NY this Thursday

2009-02-17T03:02:00.000-08:00

I am reading with Anselm Berrigan this Thursday, 2/19, at 7 p.m. in Buffalo, NY.

This is the address:

Rust Belt Books
202 Allen St.

If you live nearby, please stop by.

I haven't been to Buffalo since I was 10. My question is this: is it really that cold there?

This is probably a dumb question.

Animal Lecture

2009-02-15T10:20:00.000-08:00

Animal, of Muppets fame, was born to two purple aliens on April 4, 1746 in Outer Space.

He grew up on the right side of the sun in a small cottage with his sister, Matilda. The region of the sun where Animal is from is known for its plentiful vegetation. It is known that Animal grew up eating many different kinds of vegetables.

Neighbors in the region have said that Animal was a very quiet child.

Matilda and he were very musical and taught each other the drums. Animal’s drum talents were first discovered in 1883 when Jim Henson was passing over the right side of the sun.

Jim Henson brought Animal back to the US shortly after discovering him and set him to work as one of his Muppets.

In 1902, in a fit of Mania, Animal killed three small children in the US while they were sleeping. Some have said, he did so by lethal injection.

Shortly thereafter, Animal was diagnosed with Bipolar disorder and put on medications. He did not serve jail time, because there is no known jail for muppets.

In 1956, Animal served time in the Swedish army. It is said he fell in love while in the army with a man named Dan.

In 1985, Animal did some touring of his comedy act in the Midwest.

This is how I met Animal.

As a child, I had a viewfinder and on one of the slides was Animal.

When I first saw this slide, I wasn’t afraid of Animal, I laughed at his funny face. I didn’t know Animal was real.

Animal first came out of the viewfinder and into reality in 1986. I saw him first in the corner of the room. He was smiling. It was a strange smile.

On that first meeting, he came up to me and was very nice to me. He told me stories about his hometown. I trusted Animal.

The next few days after our first meeting were very pleasant. He came to my room every morning, sometimes entering from the ceiling, sometimes from the window. Sometimes he would just jump out of the viewfinder as I was looking at him. I always kept cookies on hand for him to eat cause Animal is always hungry.

Our relationship changed on one night.

I was dreaming of a beach and running along the beach with a dog. I was 8 years old and my dreams were innocent.

In my dream, Animal showed up and was running with me. We played in the sea foam for many hours of the dream.

In the distance there was a small silver object coming at us in the water. I tried not to pay attention. Animal caught sight of it and could not stop looking.

As it grew closer, I realized it was no more than a scrap piece of metal. It was sort of large, around six feet, but I would hardly say it was noteworthy.

All of a sudden, Animal jumped in the water after the scrap metal. Fearing for his life (for I did not know how well he could swim), I jumped in after him.

I felt a sharp pain in my right side and the ocean got very black. There were stars everywhere. I woke up.

I was in my bed and Animal was standing over me. He had a syringe and was smiling wildly.

No!, I said, but it was no use. Animal and I were already soaring through Outer Space.

They have things on the right side of the sun that you cannot imagine. I don’t think you can imagine how beautiful plants can get when they can always sit in the continuous glare of the sun.

I am here today to tell you that Animal is good, but evil. I am here to tell you Animal is very evil.

Frank Oz in 1994 said that Animal is the Id. He is the Id.

Mic Fleetwood is a man who was made in the image of Animal. When you hear his music be very scared of him.

In honor of my time with Animal, I made the following tribute movie for him.

Please enjoy the movie.

The Right Side of the Sun from Dorothea Lasky on Vimeo.

Remains (by Thom Donovan)

2009-02-10T20:46:00.000-08:00

Preparing for not preparing
Impoverished theogony the poor
Are humming we are the world
Again in the ears of prosody

What would have been and the
Undead what do they want with
Us matter passes through min-
erals proteins gelatin like

Some kind of plan moved from
Site to site so we were what
Was left fucked-up by concepts
Refusing to develop in this

Interval what would have been
Bends our organs twists a sky
They can't see no place to
Put us in only time this is

The work left to do songs di-
vise back-up plans power some
System uncaptured in your eyes
Subject to a see-through dirt.

You are beautiful (Deadpan) movie

2009-02-10T15:53:00.001-08:00

Another reason Scorpions (read: Scorpios) are cool

2009-02-08T12:53:00.000-08:00

Check out this "freaky claw-headed fossil."

Books you should buy

2009-02-06T16:47:00.000-08:00

There are so many great new books out in the last few months. I think you should buy Frank Sherlock's Over Here and Sueyeun Juliette Lee's That Gorgeous Feeling and CA Conrad's The Book of Frank. I have heard that Eric Baus's Tuned Droves is almost available for purchasing. Ish Klein's book Union! is out. Here is a new blog with links of information about it. You can buy the book here.

I wrote a blurb about the book (see below) and in it, I call Ish Klein a genius. I have also called Ish Klein a genius on this very blog. I mean it when I say Ish Klein is a genius. I am not a liar. You need to buy her book and all the books above. I am very serious about this.

Here is my blurb about Union!:

I have long been a fan of the theory of connectionism and its burgeoning use in our contemporary world. That after we have broken apart every piece of life we can in the deconstruction (destruction) of postmodernism, we might take flight and put it all back together again. To say that Ish Klein is one of the few geniuses alive today would an understatement. Her first collection of poems, Union!, does everything to prove this. In this book Klein takes the broken pieces of language we have among us, scattered all over the universe, and makes a new, universal singing of our forgotten ideals. She connects all the pieces that don’t quite make sense all blown apart and makes a beautiful language for us, one that is so achingly beautiful it is somewhat easy to swallow the whole universe with every poem. Ish Klein does this for us all. That we might have a connected language to go forth with. And it is not a new language she makes for us, it is an old language. Come now, listen to our old language. Read Union!. Be one of us.

Justice for Jason

2009-02-04T09:16:00.001-08:00

I treasured my years at UMass (and Western Mass more generally) as being a rare place in our country that continuously promotes social justice and fairness, so I am sad to hear about the terrible injustice towards the young student, Jason Vassell, recently. Please visit this site Justice for Jason and spread the word.

Mrs. Maybe, Circus, and Ratatouille

2009-02-02T07:08:00.000-08:00

Order Mrs. Maybe when you get a chance to here. Issue 2 is out.

Here is a list of contributors, of which I am one.

My poems in that issue are "“White song," “The truth shook,” and “Two assholes.”

This new song by Britney Spears is grand:

Circus

I like the dark way her music is maturing.

"There are only two types of people in the world. The ones that entertain and the ones that observe."

I had a lot of Ratatouille luck the last few days (The New!):

"Not anyone can become a great artist, but a great artist can come from anywhere."

Jungle Love

2009-02-01T09:44:00.000-08:00

"I met you on somebody's island
You thought you had known me before
I brought you a crate of papaya
Then waited all night by your door
You probably wouldn't remember
I probably couldn't forget
Jungle love in the surf in the pouring rain
Everything's better when wet"

**

"But lately you live in the jungle
I never see you alone
But we need some definite answers
So I thought I would write you a poem
The question to everyone's answer
Is usually asked from within
But the patterns of the rain
And the truth they contain
Have written my life on your skin"

**

"You treat me like I was your ocean
You swim in my blood when it's warm
My cycles of circular motion
Protect you and keep you from harm
You live in a world of illusion
Where everything's peaches and cream
We all face a scarlet conclusion
But we spend our time in a dream"

Intervalles 4/5: Interdisciplinary Transcription Issue

2009-01-17T16:38:00.000-08:00

I am truly honored to be among such great company in the Intervalles 4/5: Interdisciplinary Transcription Issue, edited by Jon Cotner and Andy Fitch. The editors seem to seek out many points of entry to uncover what the idea of transcription means to poets, critics, anthropologists, and visual artists.

Triangulate away, good editors!

And you, check out the issue here.

Recommendations

2009-01-15T09:46:00.000-08:00

See Silent Light:

Read Michael Carr's Out Another:

Read Frank Sherlock's Over Here:

Read Mark Horosky's Let it Be Nearby:

Watch this:

Casey Anthony

2008-12-28T04:04:00.001-08:00

Mother who killed her baby
In the blue light
I am on to you

Every night I watch you on the internet
Blue light of the electrical screen on your face
Blue light of the night on your face

You took your baby to the river
And dunked her head
In the waters of infinity

Even when a mother brings life
To the world
It is not hers to take
Back
It is not hers to take back

Poem I like from The Little Red Hen by Larry Fagin

2008-12-19T19:29:00.001-08:00

I am the little red hen
I work my ass off
For all the poets

And what do I get?
A pat on the butt
When the sun goes down

2008-12-19T10:48:00.000-08:00

Argument again Religion

There is no such thing as skin. --Bhanu Kapil

In any argument for religion, there is an argument against it
Poo poo magic
Get the way out of my house
Simultaneity, the conscious regard
Of a thousand men
All traipsing through history
And murder
With its infinite forms
That rolls the skulls of time to my feet
I will argue against religion, not God
I will argue against magic, but not God
Not God, God is pragmatic, is practical
God is practical worth, a sacred act
A sacred act of sex that we engage in
A wet and various act of sex
In songs against it
Against the coming of the dawn, which
Will blind us out, white light
To bind us out of ourselves
Still even in ourselves
We do not know the thing we make
Still even in this poem, I do not know the thing I make
Still even in my heart, love, I do not know the thing I make
Against religion, against the mystical
Against the mystical crazy world
That has got me nothing, I rise
Write numbers in my rising
Make numbers every little thing they can be
Still, hear hear
This poem is about numbers
This poem is numbers
These words are numbers
Your spirit is numbers
My spit is numbers, my blood is numbers
My bones are numbers
My breath is numbers, my death is numbers
My skin is numbers
I slough it off, it is numbers that I slough off
Into the sky
And they go floating by
Forgetting me
Oh that they forget me
I find them so glorious
To forget me
Even as it was I
Who once gave them so much care

2008-12-11T09:03:00.000-08:00

Rose Vallord

For the dreamers in my Gaming and Literacy meeting, 12/11/08

Rose Vallord
Remembered the artwork
Of a million Jews
Which had been stolen
Thom says to write about her
The red sun rises everyday
The blue moon
The children rise everyday
One day I will adopt a
Hundred children who have no mother
Still, narrative, no, is only, not only
A primary act of mind
The skeleton of need
Of every child in the universe
The children that rise
Into the morning in the universe
Have not been killed
By the indifference of a million men
But by the difference
Of a million men
To stretch into the sun
And become
A lifelong thing
Building an infinite of future
Of need, no, not need
But our need
To know what they know
And for them to know
What we have yet to know
And to know what we don’t need
Now
But need in the future
What the world will need
Infinite need into an infinite spectrum
Saving the artwork of a million
Infinite Jews to make
The infinite artwork of an
Infinite universe
To breed infinity
Upon ourselves, a thousand loaves
From one loaf
A million bodies from
One body
An infinite sun
From one sun
An infinite moon
From one moon

I am adding Matt Walker's POTATO to my collection of favorite poems

2008-11-29T06:54:00.000-08:00

Poet Matt Walker has a really delightful blog that I like to frequent. Yesterday I was browsing around and came across this poem:

POTATO

Sitting in the dark
With a potato
Or without a potato
Is scary

If you are afraid
Of the dark
Or potatoes
Or sitting

Nevertheless
I enjoy it
As do my relatives
As do my confidants

Once I mistook a
Potato for a bullet
A large bullet
Where'd this bullet

Come from I wondered
I was so glad
And relieved when
The Tooth Fairy

Emerged from her van
And entered my face
And ate the potato
I wish I could say

That all is well
I've lost my potato
The room is scary
More is coming

I love this poem. Walker wins me over when he goes from the line "As do my relatives" to "As do my confidants." That's the twist that separates a poem from just another thing. Because then the potato can become a large bullet. Because then the poem can do anything.

I do not have any better way to explain this separation other than a twist. Or to see it when it happens. I know when poems or other pieces of art do not have this necessary twist. All beautiful things have it. It is when the beauty is so great that it has entered the sublime realm and is likewise capable of hurting you. When something is capable of hurting you, it has twisted.

James Tate has a poem in his Selected which describes this twist perfectly, but unfortunately I can't find that book right now. It would be a shame for me to describe it, so I will just save it for another time and post it when I find the book.

(If you have his Selected, I think the poem is on page 43?)

I wanted also to take this opportunity to mention that Tate's Dreams of a Robot Dancing Bee is a great new book. You should buy it when you get a chance.

Also, here is the story of a particular instance of carrot corruption: Aaron's Carrots: Disintegration is Told Best in Images

SOFA gallery

2008-11-25T12:45:00.000-08:00

This is really super: Katie Geha's SOFA gallery

ON: Contemporary Practice

2008-11-17T10:26:00.000-08:00

Finding literary journals that rise above the same old schtick is pretty hard these days, but I am happy to tell you about an amazing new journal called ON: Contemporary Practice (edited by Michael Cross, Thom Donovan, and Kyle Schlesinger). It features the work of contemporary poets writing about each other's poetics through original means. The editors define the project as such:

ON Contemporary Practice gathers writing about the practices or poetics of one’s contemporaries. While these writings may be highly anti-categorical or “hybrid,” they are ultimately for the cultivation and extension of critical discourse.

Looking at the first issue of ON, I have been delighted to see my contemporaries engaged in actual discourse (as opposed to the fluffy/vicious ways we usually talk about each other). It is quite an amazing endeavor these editors have undertaken and I am excited to devour this first issue and all other issues thereafter.

The first issue of ON features work by:

Taylor Brady, Brandon Brown, CAConrad, Jason Christie, Michael Cross, Thom Donovan, Eli Drabman, Rob Halpern, Jen Hofer, Alan Gilbert, Brenda Iijima, Andrew Levy, Edric Mesmer, Sawako Nakayasu, Tenney Nathanson, Richard Owens, Tim Peterson, Andrew Rippeon, Kyle Schlesinger, Jonathan Skinner, Dale Smith, Suzanne Stein, Ali Warren, Katie Yeats

Writing on:

Arakawa/Gins, Taylor Brady, CAConrad, Michael Cross, Beverly Dahlen, Michael deBeyer, Mark Dickinson, kari edwards, DJ/Rupture, Thom Donovan, Belle Gironda, Brenda Iijima, CJ Martin, Emily McVarish, Yedda Morrison, Hoa Nguyen, Sawako Nakayasu, Julie Patton, Lauren Shufran, Suzanne Stein, Dana Ward, Ali Warren

To buy the first issue on SPD, please follow this link: ON on SPD

You can also purchase ON through Cuneiform Press through the following means:

Cuneiform Press
214 N. Henry Street
Brooklyn, NY 11222
www.cuneiformpress.com

Copies are available for $12.00. Free shipping in the US for all orders placed through the publisher. Send checks to Kyle Schlesinger at the address above.

You can find out more information about ON (such as submission guidelines for their next issue) on their website.

Lonely Poems/Black Life

2008-11-09T20:32:00.000-08:00

Love

2008-11-08T12:37:00.000-08:00

"Stop telling me what U want me 2 hear
Stop telling me what U want me 2 fear
Stop trippin' on something U overheard
Love is winning without a word
Stop giving me Ur "wish list"
Love is free from all this

Like a bird flyin' over the hilltops
Love is like the sky, U know it never stops
From the abundance of the heart the mouth speaks
Love is whatever... whatever... U want it 2 b

Love is not a game U can play on the floor
U gotta stop keepin' score
If U wanna, If U want 2 play me like U did b4
U better stop and walk out the door
U can skate around the issue if U like
But who's gonna get U high in the middle of the night?

Like a bird flyin' over the hilltops
Love is like the sky, U know it never stops
From the abudance of the heart the mouth speaks
Love is whatever... whatever... U want it 2 b

I c U standing with Ur back on the wall
U better, better get Ur hands up and clap if that's all
and uh, if U don't wanna get Urs, then let me get mine
See, ain't gonna b no drama 'cause we have a good time

What's the point of giving me ultimatums?
Smiling at my friends when U really hate 'em
Trying 2 convince me that eye should 2...
what's the point?

Stop worryin' about what people say
When it ain't gonna stop them anyway
Love can do anything if U try
Come on... Spread Ur wings... Let's fly, fly so high

flyin' over the hilltops
Love is like the sky, U know it never stops
From the abundance of the heart the mouth speaks
Love is whatever... whatever... whatever...

Like a bird flyin' over the hilltops
Love is like the sky, U know it never stops
From the abundance of the heart the mouth speaks
Love is whatever... whatever... U want it 2 b

Whatever U want it 2 B
alright
let's skate

I c U standing with Ur back on the wall
Better get Ur hands up and clap if that's all
If U don't wanna get Urs, then let me get mine
See, ain't gonna b no drama 'cause we have a good time

Bounce
aww, shake that thing, c'mon
ahh, bounce it baby
aww, shake that thing c'mon
good god"

--"Love," Prince

Good-bye sweet chair!

Some new poems

2008-11-03T04:37:00.000-08:00

I have some new poems in some super journals:

DL's poems in Womb Poetry

DL's poem in Absent Magazine

Check them out.

"We are a see through love
Seeing through sun and haze
I see through to the totally clear end

If you appear within the seconds of
the word imagination
If you appear the word allows a man to
see to those appearance
If you appear what's airy
sends a friend to my imagination
The kind of town where it's a sin
to be inside and outside for them
Around the side of the house where
the side that you can get up on it
When every inter-call decides awell
that's up to go off

We are a see through love
Seeing through sun and haze
I see through to the totally clear end

It's well to know that since it gives a name
you get to grow up with him
I finish all supposed where it's a good time
floating where so much up
The Kind of love that I can only find in my imagination
The Kind of heart that I can only have in my imagination

We are see through love
Seeing through sun and haze"

-Arthur Russell, "See Through Love"

Arts and Education Issue of the Urban Ed Journal

2008-10-23T09:23:00.000-07:00

Please submit to the upcoming arts and education issue of the wonderful Urban Ed journal.

Their announcement is as follows:

Volume 6, Issue 2 - Arts and Education

The Penn GSE Perspectives on Urban Education Journal is now accepting submissions for the upcoming issue, which will focus on the topic of arts in education. Whether included in the classroom curriculum, supplied by visiting artists, or incorporated into afterschool and community-based programming, integrated and discipline-based arts education is widely perceived by both researchers and practitioners to be a public and private good. In this issue, the journal seeks to elaborate the discussion of arts in education in urban areas. How is the relationship between arts and education understood and practiced in urban areas? On the one hand, educators understand how arts serve as a platform to engage students and foster growth; on the other hand, issues of funding, time management, and local and national school mandates often limit the integration and implementation of arts. How do educators, students, and parents negotiate these factors as they bring arts into learning environments?

This is a broad topic, with both "arts" and "education" understood as including but not limited to visual, performing, creative, and expressive arts in K-12, college, university, and community contexts. We encourage researchers, graduate students, practitioners, policy makers, and youth to publish studies in progress, as well as findings from completed research and reflections on practice. We welcome submissions that present content in creative ways through multimedia formats. Submissions must follow the style outlined in the Publication Manual of the American Psychological Association (2001, 5th edition). Please complete the submission form found on our website and e-mail it along with your submission to journal@gse.upenn.edu.

Submission due date: February 15, 2009

Visit Urban Ed Journal for more information.

The Entertainer, You're Only Human, You're My Home (Selections from Billy Joel)

2008-10-22T22:31:00.000-07:00

Don't worry, the moon will rise wherever you go.
--Mary Jo Bang, "How to Leave a Prairie"

I.

"I am the entertainer

I come to do my show

You've heard my latest record

It's been on the radio

Ah, it took me years to write it

They were the best years of my life

It was a beautiful song

But it ran too long

If you're gonna have a hit

You gotta make it fit

So they cut it down to 3:05"

II.

"It's not always easy to be living in this world of pain

You're gonna be crashing into stone walls again and again

It's alright

It's alright

Though you feel your heart break

You're only human

You're gonna have to deal with heartache"

III.

"When you look into my eyes
And you see the crazy gypsy in my soul
It always comes as a surprise
When I feel my withered roots begin to grow
Well
I never had a place that I could call my very own
But that's alright
my love
'cause you're my home
When you touch my weary head
And you tell me ev'rything will be alright
You say
Use my body for your bed
And my love will keep you warm throughout the night
Well I'll never be a stranger and I'll never be alone
Wherever we're together
That's my home
Home can be the Pennsylvania Turnpike
Indiana's early morning dew
High up in the hills of California
Home is just another word for you
If I travel all my life
And I never get to stop and settle down
Long as I have you by my side
There's a roof above and good walls all around
You're my castle
You're my cabin and my instant pleasure dome
I need you in my house 'cause you're my home"

I am not lame for liking Coldplay

2008-10-09T09:45:00.000-07:00

People are always wanting more of something. I have been reading all these articles about creativity lately and the consensus is that more of it would be good in our schools. Still, what does more mean? People often want more money, but then they are often unsure of what to do with it. I think this is how hoarding develops. The allotment of things is what is important with resources. For example, the times in my life when I have wanted more love endlessly were the times when the wrong kind of love was available.

In other words, I have decided that the people I know who think I am lame for liking Coldplay are the same people I know who nothing meaningful about art. I make my own decisions about what kind of art I like because I know a lot about what kind of art is important to our time.

I do not think Coldplay is particularly important to our time, but I do think it is nice to listen to on the train when you need a gentle Pisces voice to counteract the harsh world.

I read with Tao Lin a few weeks ago in a poetry reading. He’s obviously a genius. Every writer and poet alive today should worship the ground he walks on. But I guess most people already know to do so.

I hope he doesn’t mind me putting him so close to Coldplay.

This is a poem I wrote for George Bush:

The Liar

Worse than The Fool
The Liar is always coming at me
With his various masks
He is a man I will never marry
Carrying black pails against the sea
The seawind betrays him
For his guilt and sameness
And haunting, he always haunts
The Liar is a false fool, I watch his lips
And they are fruit-like, but bitten
And I watch them and they are ugly
Like the day from which I came
And they are nothing
Magic lips I see
And there is no one on this earth worth living for
The Liar is bent towards the sun
I have no faith in him and who does
Have faith in a man
Who is no more than an alien

I actually don’t think all Republicans are evil. That’s because I am humanist and I have known some Republicans in my time who actually wanted to help people. My dad was one of those people.

Nevertheless, McCain/Bush is no humanist. Mostly in part because he is too old to understand humanism. Old age and youth (not always mind you) can cloud humanism because there are other needs when you are on either side of death. Humanism is for us adults, in the prime, ready to take action.

And just like this, as Obama said recently, we need adults in the White House, not children.

Hillary Clinton is a Republican Humanist. I still love her.

It is no matter. I’d take a slightly corrupt Democrat-Republican-Humanist over a Bush-McCain Republican anyday.

We need to fight Sarah Palin/John McCain. They are not what this world needs. We need to fight, as adults, for the world.

We need to forget about George Bush/John McCain Republicans that are betting that we have the TV on with the sound down.

I care about sound. So do you, I think.

We are a country where charisma matters a lot. George Bush and Sarah Palin look awfully good on TV with the sound down. They are good-looking. Don’t deny it. That’s the problem, looking good, deadpan-style, with no sound. The American deadpan is only important when you have the sound on—that’s when you see our depth. But unfortunately that’s the way a lot of Americans watch TV, with the sound down, while doing something. This soundlessness undercuts everything this country is good for. Still, there is an inherent tension between what looks good and the sound of it that happens when we watch TV in this country with the sound off. Which is what a lot of Americans do, cause we are a busy and lonely people and we need company—a soundless company that doesn’t make a fuss. And I don’t think that’s good per se, but I do think it is a practice that elucidates an implicitly American relationship to charisma that does not involve sound. If want to win this election, we need to understand this soundless relationship immediately.

The other week I saw one of my old students and when I did, I thought of a class I had a few years back. It was a class in poetry by women (don’t get me started on why I don’t agree with sequestering women poets like that, but it is a necessary practice if we want our poems read). One of the girls in the class was mad at me about something. I think I was critiquing her poem and she was fuming at me. And then she exclaimed: “Oh Dottie, you don’t know anything about the real experimental poetry that is going on these days.” I remember being a little pissed off, but also in love with her spunk.

And the truth is, I probably didn’t. I don’t think I am an experimental poet.

I used to be one, I think I have intentionally tried not to be so in the last five years of my life. I am not sure what got me on the path of trying, but I do know that a lot of what is considered experimentalism in poetry today bores me. I just don’t see the risk in it. Of course, too, a lot of so-called non-experimental poetry being written today bores me, too. I believe in experimental poetry, but not as a dogmatic definition of being brave in a poem. I think a lot of poets are brave and I love the poets who are writing these days who are intensely fearless. I would like to get back to being brave.

I think being brave is a lot about being forced to be so.

One time a supervisor of mine in an arts studio where I worked told me plainly, as I was planning a public art project, “what you give them is important.” That was probably the most important thing a person has ever said to me regarding curriculum.

What circumstances you give a person is of the utmost importance to their experience. In education, this is not only the objects or ideas you give them to manipulate, it is also the world you give them to manipulate the objects and ideas in.

It is certainly not a new idea to think that social justice is married to providing people with proper education. What is proper is certainly up for debate. What is not proper is another four years of George Bush-style policies, another four years of the purposeless, soundless allotment of more. Or bravery for the sake of it. Or of a soundless beauty that masks death.

First and foremost, we don’t need people like Sarah Palin dictating educational policy. Just because you like children or can have them doesn’t mean you know one “goddamn” thing about the way people learn. It doesn’t even ensure that you care.

The weird sounds in Jeff Mangum’s In the Aeroplane Over the Sea sound like a train slowing down, as its wheels caress and rub the tracks. It is a sad sound. The pain I feel when I listen to that CD is like the pain I feel when I press on a fresh bruise. Over and over again it is the same dull ache.

I will never get over that album. Soft silly music is meaningful, magical.

I was thinking about Hillary Clinton the other day and I wrote her this poem:

Hillary Clinton

Daughter of Chicago
Businessmen and teachers
She was born
She was smart
She grew up
With dreams
In Midwestern scenery
She met Bill Clinton
O Bill Clinton
This poem isn’t about you
I am a feminist
Like every other woman
Of my generation
Even though you
Can’t tell, much has
Been already done
For example, some men
Have a range of
Emotions you can count on
Abby Walton too
Once played me a song
Called Old Old Fashioned
Hillary Clinton speaks
And it sounds like the soft
Soft static in that song
Laura if we were one thing
It might look something
Like a blue-green dragon
You might disagree with me
About the color
In the morning the sky is grey
It is grey a grey grey sky
I can’t count on the sky
Mother, mother, mother
Mother, mother
I like the way you were
Once round and full
And healthy
And the black night
Wasn’t seeping in our dreams
Hillary Clinton
I know when I see you
I am seeing a little girl
Who knew
She could be president

In other news, I think Danity Kane is my new favorite band:

“When the red light comes on, I transform”

Do they mean burning by that? No, I don’t think so. These women have too much glorious flat affect to let you see them burn.

Here’s another one:

A rule that is not hard to learn is that when Puffy starts talking at the beginning of something, it’s going to be good.

I think someday we poets should get him to grace a reading for us.

I love him:

“You know what time it is? Report to the dance floor.”

“You are the only one I want to talk to. But I don’t want to rush.”

“She diggin my style, my swag, my suede, my swerve
My way with words, the Boy’s absurd for sure
You can't fall til my aura called
I make miracles like I walked on water
What you want mama order, it's on my tab
I'm so bad with that cash, I dropped the whole bag
Where you at girl?”

Order books

2008-09-30T06:30:00.000-07:00

Order Jordan Stempleman's book.

Order Poker if you don't already have it.

It would be hilarious if the world's future wasn't at stake

2008-09-25T06:32:00.000-07:00

McCain doesn't want Barbie to speak cause they have to order a new microchip for her.

Tell me the poo is not genius

2008-09-20T00:12:00.000-07:00

Read this and you will be happy finally with your mortal coil:

Genius drawing by Camilla Schofield

Darkness Everywhere

2008-09-11T15:16:00.000-07:00

"Caution: to prevent electric shock do not remove cover
No user-serviceable parts insde Refer servicing to qualified
service personnel"
Let this be the epitaph for my heart Cupid put too much poison in the dart
This is the epitaph for my heart because it's gone, gone gone
and life goes on and on anon and death goes on, world without end
and you're not my friend Who will mourn the passing of my heart
Will its little droppings climb the pop chart Who'll take its ashes and,
singing, fling them from the top of the Brill Building And life goes on,
and dawn, and dawn and death goes on, world without end and you're
not my friend"

-"Epitaph for my Heart," Magnetic Fields

Feelings are a new form of nothingness

2008-09-02T18:44:00.000-07:00

Poetry Dance this weekend

2008-08-27T12:06:00.000-07:00

I have been working with Kathryn TeBordo and her Workshop for Potential Movement for a few months now to make a dance out of my poems. This weekend this dance will occur for all to see.

Here are some showtimes.

Here is a great write-up about the project on the Live Arts Festival blog.

Here is some more information about the show.

In the show, the sublime is something called Eagle. But the poems do not go into the sublime, they go into the dance. I go into nothing because I am simply a physical medium to the words.

diode poems

2008-08-24T18:25:00.000-07:00

I have some new poems in diode magazine and here they are: DL's poems in diode.

I say new poems, but at least one of those poems is over a year old. I don't know if that is new or not.

Also, recently I saw a movie by Esra Ersen called "Growing Old (Dis)gracefully" (I may have messed that title up) at the Bard College Art Museum. I could not stop watching it and fell in love with the main character, Helen, who was so full of life. Check it out or this artist's other work (which I am not familiar with) if you can.

Here are two pictures of a real, dead dragonfly:

Here is a picture that Eric Baus took because he always captures the moments in life that are blissfully sad:

A good voice

2008-08-22T21:11:00.000-07:00

This group is so good:

Diddy's voice is like a glorious midnight in their song.

Any song that voice graces is going to be good.

Don't forget this great song from 1996:

You know when he says "Let's go"? Yeah, that's what you have to say when the whole thing starts. That's why I'm his loyal fan. Cause he knows what to say and how to say it right.

Laura Solomon's Blue and Red Things

2008-08-21T14:44:00.000-07:00

Laura Solomon's Blue and Red Things is featured on Silliman's Blog today. Read about it here.

I like how Silliman talks about the power and seriousness in her poems. Both are everpresent. I also like how Phillip Metres calls her work "post-apocalyptic pastoral" in the comments. That's a great description of what is important in Solomon's poems, I think, if she wouldn't mind me saying so.

One time Laura Solomon read me a poem and in my mind I saw a forest of translucent, light grey trees. It is an image I have never forgotten and which I consistently associate with her poems, particularly this collection, Blue and Red Things. The image in my mind is kind of the image on the cover of her book, but different. The image in my mind is more jelly-like, more tactile. It is very hard to explain. Anyway, nonetheless, the image I might call a group of post-apocalyptic trees.

(For more Solomon, check out her reading in the bathroom leg of The Tiny Tour. Hers is the 3rd video down.)

Open galleries

2008-08-18T05:47:00.001-07:00

I think open galleries on the internet are really cool, like this one: Museum of Computer Art Virtual Gallery It is good to give people a space to show their work when the site has space to. The internet should be an infinite collective, I think.

It just occurred to me that I could never end a string of things I would like to show on an open thing like a blog. The world is infinite with beautiful things. At some point though we all have to stop showing. I never get sick of it though. I could never get sick of collecting the things that humans make. Is that a kind of humanist hoarding? So be it.

I went to the Bard College Art Museum this weekend and saw this great movie installation by Johanna Billing called Magical World and thought it was beautiful. It was so sad, too.

I think the best contemporary poetry today is the kind that gets its formal structure from hip hop. That is what I try to emulate, at least.

I shouldn't talk in absolutes. But it is our time, a time of American absolutism. We will get over it soon. I hope.

Still, I really mean what I say about hip hop. This song by B.I.G. has been embedded in my brain for the last 10 years:

Also, like hip hop, the poet Nick Moudry, who I went to school with many years ago, has taught me more than I could ever articulate about formal structure in poetry. He was featured on the Omnidawn Blog in June. Here's his poem: "Still-life."
Here's another poem of his called "Imitations of Life."

I have a poem by him called "New ode" that is covered in green acetate for safe-keeping hanging on my wall. Last night, my brother, it being his last night in town, and Conrad and I ate coconut sorbet and I read Nick's poem to them. It had been a long time since I had read it out loud. It is still one of the best poems I have ever read.

The other day I sprained my neck but I kept a stick-to-your-skin heating pad on my neck for 8 hours or more and now my sprain is all but gone. How does that work?

I have decided that I think blogs are really really odd. This is a really weird time we are in, you know.

This is a video of a favorite song of mine:

I like how that guy screams in the beginning of the video.

Are you jealous of my pictures: Pics of people in The Yellow Marshmallow

?

?

You shouldn't be so jealous.

Jealousy destroys tolerance, and the destruction of tolerance is the destruction of all love.

Here's a song about love sung by a true performer:

Compost tea

2008-08-17T23:15:00.001-07:00

My brother is in town. After he made some compost tea:

(Yes, that is the tea.)

He showed me this video by Jens Lekman:

which I really liked. The snow erases everything. It is the physical sublime.

The other day I wrote an essay about how being late is not a moral issue. I still feel that way today. Sometimes people try to put things that are not in the moral realm into it in order to make them feel like they have strengths. Being late is not a strength, it is a choice based on a series of conditions, some present, some past, a few future. Like Kierkegaard, I think we should watch what traits of others we ascribe to the moral realm. Doing so too hastily breeds intolerance, which is the death of all love.

Here's a better picture of the compost tea:

The song in the video is called "Black Cab."

He also took weird pictures of some the stuff around my apartment:

I want those to be gigantic posters in my room. I think EB is a photographic genius. He can literally make a dead bird look beautiful: EB's birds

Even though the time is gone, I still remember the time I spent on the beach a few weeks ago. I felt right there and am sad not to be there. Here's a video I took of the seaweed:

Also, I like reading this: Interview with Juliana Spahr from 2005. I love Juliana Spahr. One time I wrote her this poem:

Death of (no Life of) the Human

for Juliana Spahr

We are all here together
Insecure or not
It is our party
To play in
They are our hearts to mention
The world would not exist without us, o us!
I feel connected to everyone (everything) with lungs
The green springs of the air we breathe in
Are spongy and delightful
And I am not a racist
Nor am I not a fascist
I am not anything as much as I am nothing
Floating so floatily in the mid-Spring air
The white wind touching my wrists and ankles
And everything loving me, o that I exist
And breathe in this air
There would be no air to breathe
Without us to breathe it

I like her because she's a humanist. Oh but who isn't these days. Oh but she's a real one.

I wrote her another poem once about being in a dark park, but I never finished it in the right way. Sometimes you write a poem and you just lose it before it is done. Usually it's because someone calls you to annoy you before you can get the poem out. I wish those people who always ruin my poems would wait to call when I am lonely, which is a lot of the time. I am more the person people want me to be when I am lonely, but I am never lonely when I am writing a poem. There are always too many people around. I wonder if everyone who is a poet feels that way. I wonder if everyone who is an artist feels that way.

Human Thing

2008-08-09T20:23:00.000-07:00

Love

2008-08-09T03:14:00.001-07:00

Apologize, Timbaland Featuring One Republic

2008-08-09T03:08:00.000-07:00

I'm holding on a rope
Got me 10 feet off the ground
I'm hearin' what you say but I just can't make a sound
You tell me that you need me then you go and cut me down
But wait
You tell me that you're sorry didn't think I'd turn around and say:

That it's too late to apologize
It's too late
I said it's too late to apologize
It's too late

I'd take another chance, take a fall, take a shot for you
I need you like a heart needs a beat, it's nothing new
Yeah, yea
I loved you with a fire red now it's turning blue
And you say
Sorry, like the angel heaven let me think was you
But I'm afraid

It's too late to apologize
It's too late
I said it's too late to apologize
It's too late

It's too late to apologize
It's too late
I said it's too late to apologize
It's too late

I'm holding on a rope
Got me 10 feet off the ground

A favorite poem for what is a rainy day

2008-08-06T11:55:00.000-07:00

It is rainy where I am. Here is one of my favorite poems in honor of a rainy day. This poem is not about rain. It about the day after the day that it rains.

I know the truth - give up all other truths!

I know the truth - give up all other truths!
No need for people anywhere on earth to struggle.
Look - it is evening, look, it is nearly night:
what do you speak of, poets, lovers, generals?

The wind is level now, the earth is wet with dew,
the storm of stars in the sky will turn to quiet.
And soon all of us will sleep under the earth, we
who never let each other sleep above it.

-Marina Tsvetaeva

Trying to be all cool and organized

2008-08-06T09:58:00.000-07:00

My reading page is sort of updated for the fall: List of readings I will be in this fall. I don't have all the details for all the readings, but I thought I would put some of them up in case anybody is going to be the areas I will be in. Thanks for considering coming to a reading of mine in advance.

Speaking of things that are organized well, here is one of my top ten favorite websites of the last 5 years: We Love Colors

I am reading in NYC on 8/23, so come see me if you are free

2008-08-04T14:08:00.001-07:00

Here's a reading I am going to be in with John Beer and Macgregor Card on 8/23:

Poetry Time reading

Come to the reading if you are in the NYC area!

Yesterday I went to the beach

2008-07-30T06:08:00.000-07:00

Yesterday I went to the beach:

I am living life in a way I never have before. I am sick of the old ways I used to live life. I want to believe in the picture above again. I don't think I have ever been alive and truly believed in the picture above.

When I was in college, I worked in the library with this wonderful woman named Mona. She told me that the world was full of people who would suck your joy out if you let them. It sounds like she was talking about vampires, but no I don't think she meant that. Joy is not blood. She said to protect your joy at all costs. I think we all should do that: protect joy. It needs protecting. It is not a very strong thing, very flimsy and serious and watery. It is not blood, so it doesn't go on forever, bringing life. But when it is around, I will surround it in my meaty hands (but not touch it, you should never touch it) and not let the darkness seep into it anymore. It is worth saving, like chance. Chance is worth saving, too.

Sometimes I look at blogs and I find things I like

2008-07-26T08:58:00.001-07:00

I drank almost an entire bottle of Diet Mountain Dew today in order to finish an academic task I have been working incessantly on for the past week (and let's just say I haven't finished yet). Anyway, sometimes drinking lots of Dew makes me find blogs with poems that I like. I really like this poem by Kendra Grant Malone: "is it narcissistic that im attracted to you even though we look similar?"

It is a great thing when ass is the last word of a poem. This is not a rule, but a general observation.

It is kind of a rule that I am glad that geniuses like Bernadette Mayer wrote poems like this, so that we can all write poems that end in ass as much as we want to.

I will continue to look at blogs more to find more poems I like. People writing poems and posting them to blogs--I like that! The world wide web. Who would have thought.

Terrible Love

2008-07-22T20:40:00.000-07:00

Here is the best news ever I could tell you: Ish Klein's first book is due out Feb. 9, 2009. It is called Union! and will be published by Canarium Books. Ish Klein is a genius. People say that sort of thing a lot about people, but I really mean it when I talk about Ish Klein. It is a true blessing to know her. Alice B. Toklas wrote (or we will say she did for the sake of argument) that there were three times in her life that she met a genius and each time she heard a bell. And she said, when she first met Gertrude Stein she heard a bell.

I first saw Ish Klein read when I had only lived in Philadelphia for two months, as she read for the Philadelphia leg of the Poetry Bus Tour. I didn't hear a bell that night cause that's not my thing, that's Alice B. Toklas' thing. Still, bell or no bell, she was so good, she scared me. For about 8 months after that, I would see her around town, but I was so scared of her genius that I would lose all ability to say anything and end up running away. One night, last summer, after having known who she was for 8 months, I went up to her at a party and introduced myself. She was very nice and I like her very much to this day.

I really like Alice B. Toklas.

I first read Gertrude Stein's Three Lives when I was 15. I was in San Diego visiting my Aunt Ardis. The day I read the book, I was swimming by myself in my aunt's pool, with a bunch of orange trees all around. That was a very important day for me.

The other day I went to a reading Molly's Bookstore in Philly's Italian Market. Molly Russakoff is a brilliant poet who ran the bookstore, but is now closing it in order to open up Project 360, an amazing educational venture for teens who feel like they don't have a place in the traditional school system (I will hopefully write more about Project 360 in a future post, as I think it is wonderful and people should donate money to it). Because the bookstore is closing, there was a closing reading. Books from the bookstore were very cheap at the reading and I bought a book called Staying on Alone: Letters of Alice B. Toklas. It seems like a really good book so far. At the reading, Ish Klein read the poem below. It knocked me so far off my feet that I can't stop thinking about it. In fact the poem below this post called "The Body" is written to Ish after hearing this poem by her. Here's Ish's phenomenal poem:

Act I: Against Death

Since we are ghosts,
since we are barely here but for pain and song and sad lights from our memories
making it out,

since we are brightest before death-
Wait ghost!
Wait friendly ghost! I’m running after which means I thought of running:

I watched myself do it
I had regret
I put it all on you.

You- the mobile ghost
You- the better ghost
You with your magic and who am I?

I am an angry friendly ghost. A ghost who wants to lose weight,
one who picks at skin and pulls out hair.
One who doesn’t haunt others but who haunts herself.

Ghost among ghosts!
You who are a weary ghost- who is hung over and scribbling out the fear-
The old buildings that we move through as we dodge machines.

Come here and be faithful to blood
to the fact that it pours constantly-
The collective blood that pays our way and says almost nothing.

I am haunting these people.
I think they are my friends.
Not well

am I doing this.
I am going to be forgotten.
I do hope that happens.

Maybe then I can change
maybe I can say,
You go here, do this do that:

first A, then B, then C
and I will be reliable
as for endeavor.

But always it is:
C! B?
fuck you A. I never needed A.

A is destroying my mind-
A is the devil and the devil wants to fuck and crawl out of me again;
to make me responsible for the end of it all.

A- the thing to do-
Avoid the devil
do the laundry.

Avoid the devil’s cameras.
Hi! I say. I smile.
behind the loudness, my evasion, the hangover, I am planning,

planning to get better.
I am figuring somewhere else.
I have been working on it.

I’ve been imagining the woods- not the city.
The woods and within the clearing
two castles.

They will dig me out from a whole.
I was sleeping inside a tree.
You see I killed myself before for love. I could not be found.

Others needed me and I did not care.
I needed me but I did not know it as I was essentially leaking
everything and the love and the pain it mixed

sand to glass inside- it broke and my glass with wine
broken- this is how I drank it.
This is what shocked my voice

this is the further tear along the front.
The front filling up with blood- ballooning with it.
It fears the air a bit.

It needs to keep moving.
Wary blood, how can I blame you.
I am dead.

I did kill myself. I must forgive everyone in pain.
I must give them everything to correct my mistake.
It isn’t easy . Sorry.

Well, the furies
You know- the furies who can cure them.?
They have many arms all weaponed, all holding edges and points to tear.

You can’t hug them from behind.
They roll with spikes out.
Who’s in there? What blood is in there? How can it be freed?

I am part of you furies.
I am a radiant of you too.
Let me take you in and care, let me sit you by my fire.

My sister in her car.
We will die now, I thought.
We’re together- it fits

I guess I’m ready
If this is love
it isn’t trusting.

Love you are allowed to be you.
You with frightened blood and plagued by cameras from beyond and dancing sort of.
You with no magic that has become a new magic of ticks and clicks. Hit it with a stick

Metal, it is now,
a moment! I have stopped
aware of my complete apparent lack of comfort.

Numbers. Points in the dark.
Heaven. Old time.
Shame. Shame the stupid soiled person, the actor.

You out there, there is a way.
A way to break out!
You mate with flames

You forgot-

you forget

You must have been

You must be:

A. Devil

B. Angel

C. Motion

D. Dog

E. Electric

F. Made by Men

C. Computer, broken circuits cutting other circuits

inside and around

outside holding you in.

Inside screaming

Your friends are keeping you here

They need someone too, Love.

LOVE TERRIBLE LOVE

LOVE TERRIBLE LOVE

STAY WITH ME

The Body

2008-07-21T15:06:00.000-07:00

for Ish Klein

Eric says all my dreams are in my body
All my bad dreams
About betrayal
I don’t want to be in this body anymore
That holds all the betrayal of the universe
Its tissues bluing all day into blue-black
Blood balloon
One day all that blood will be dark and grey
I want to be an unearthly body instead of this one
I want to be a body that is free of dreams
The imagination
I never wanted the imagination within my legs and arms anyway
Blacking within it like forgotten light
Umbrella limbs full of potential light
I never wanted to be the person who tells you
That I believe in you
So that you never had to listen to anyone else
I never wanted
You to forget about me
Freeze me into arctic lust
Until I am never the body
That is amber in the sun
The people, I never wanted the people
To touch my body like they owned it
In dreams
On earth
In real life
I wanted people to believe in my body for once
Not my dreams
That you can walk through in wonderment
Because they are so beautiful
The whole world, the people
They never believed in my body
They only ever believed in their own bodies
Walking and talking
Through the world
Mimetic knights
The people
They only ever believed in their own similar bodies
Flattened pieces of videotape
Matted pictures, red and black
And twinned
The twinned heads and feet
The pickled noses, the twins
The people
Lost and adorned
They only ever believed in the things that were similar
They only ever believed in the cold

english bulldog puppies

2008-07-20T21:14:00.001-07:00

These dogs make me want to live forever.

Talking fish

2008-07-19T18:53:00.000-07:00

After reading this article, I don't want to eat fish anymore. And this after I just started eating fish again after two years of fishlessness.

Check it out:

Article about the sounds of fish

Joni Mitchell - Both Sides Now (Live, 1970)

2008-07-18T21:12:00.001-07:00

"But now its just another show
You leave em laughing when you go
And if you care, don't let them know
Don't give yourself away"

Suicide - Ghost Rider

2008-07-17T21:06:00.001-07:00

Nelly Furtado Say it Right

2008-07-17T14:22:00.001-07:00

This song is so sad.

Pinkberry Song

2008-07-17T14:11:00.001-07:00

i wonder should i get it plain or green tea, doesn't matter to me
don't care how long i have to wait,
i like it in the rain, or in the winter time
like a burst of sunshine, good for my body, good for my mouth,
good for my mind, good with the family, good with the friend, with the lover, or alone
it's an obsession, pure and delightful, simple and heavenly
and guilt-free, yummy! pinkberry

iChat Screenshots-possible picture pool?

2008-07-16T06:31:00.000-07:00

Hey, does anybody out there want to start an iChat screenshots picture pool on Flickr?

Here's what I have so far: iChat photos

Maybe there is one already. I can't imagine there wouldn't be. It would be cool to have a poetry one.

Deadpan poems in Glitterpony Magazine

2008-07-16T06:07:00.001-07:00

Check out some more of my Deadpan collaboration with Thom Donovan in the latest issue of Glitterpony. Glitterpony is the brainchild of the fabulous Natalie Lyalin and the fabulous Jon Link, both Sagittariuses. I gotta stop. Sometime soon, I promise I'll stop. Soon.

Here are the poems: Deadpan poems in Glitterpony.

Cat Power: The Moon

2008-07-13T18:41:00.001-07:00

"the moon is not only beautiful
it is so far away
the moon is not only ice cold
it is here to stay"

Very Small Movies

2008-07-13T14:12:00.001-07:00

Yesterday, I communicated via puppets with some friends on ichat way into the night:

But before that I went to a party with my work friends and I had to walk for what seemed like a very long time by myself on a woodsy street. I made this movie because I wanted to remember the feeling of walking by myself on the street:

And then after I made the movie, I started thinking about other very short movies I have randomly made within the last year. Here are a few below:

That one I made when Laura and I were in Ithaca, NY and this nice woman was driving us to the train station. Below is one from the same trip when we were on the bus:

Here are some dogs in NY:

And then here are some water ripples in a pond:

I have some more, but I'll spare you the overload. Still, looking at them has made me consider how much the lack of a regular performative element in them might have something to do with their being tied to the natural world in some way (animals, trees). Anyway, very small movies really interest me lately. Making very small movies seems to be some way to capture the memory moments of a life that are actually important and don't have much to do with performance, except the performance of the everyday. Still, the everyday has a style and very small movies show this style, this joy of living. I don't think there is anything I could say about them that wouldn't seem extremely naive and simplistic to anyone with any expertise in film, but I have noticed that video sites like youtube and vimeo have more than likely bred an explosion of many short movies (under 30 seconds). When visiting the youtube channels of my poetry peers for instance, I have noticed that many of them seem interested in capturing moments in very short movies that have no obvious narrative, are wholly quotidian in their beauty. As well, there are probably millions of very small movies on sites like youtube, such as the millions of movies of cute moments between people and their dogs (I have looked at all of these, I think). Still, why is capturing and archiving these small moments so important to us as a culture? I don't know why, but the possible answers seem fascinating.

This interests me too because I've been working on an ethnography this past Spring of an after-school science program and very often in an attempt to capture unperformative moments of the children's learning, I have taken very short movies of their interactions. In capturing the social aspects of a learning event, it seems that a culmination of very short movies might show more about their learning than weeding through a continuous record. The performance is in the off and on switch, but the players, often unaware of the small moments being captured, are more true to the real life I want to better understand to aid learning in the future within these short movies.

What matters in a human life is not always the very dramatic moments that are infused with high meaning. We know this. What makes life good is being content through an accumulation of very small moments. Gorky knew this always. We have always known this all along. Still, the materials of this, in very short moving pictures, haunt me in a way that my memories haunt me. Because the past goes into a hole in the universe we can never fully capture, even as the past is the very thing that gives any existence at all any meaning.

No, that is not entirely true. I mean the future gives meaning, too.

When I was talking about this with EB this morning, he told me about the Early Edison films and how they captured very small moments as people experimented with the medium of film. Here is a snippet of them:

That kiss is amazing. Still, it is not these moments that I am thinking of now exactly, although they are related and beautiful. I am thinking of the moments up until the limit that make the limit +1. These are the moments that important to the poetry of our time.

Rock Star - N.E.R.D.

2008-07-12T22:30:00.001-07:00

"You think the way you lives okay
You think posing
Will save the day
You think we don't see
That you're running
Better call your boys
'Cause I'm coming"

"I guess
You ain't heard that we swallow guys
It's too damn late to apologize
Will you see the mantle or will you see the skies

It's almost over now
It's almost over now"

Bauhaus - Bela Lugosi's Dead

2008-07-11T21:12:00.001-07:00

James Taylor - Something In the Way She Moves - Live Concert

2008-07-11T14:46:00.001-07:00

"Every now and then the things I lean on lose their meaning,
And I find myself careening
Into places where I should not let me go.
-- she has the power to go where no one else can find me,
Yes, and to silently remind me
Of the happiness and good times that I know, you know."

Grease - You Are The One That I Want

2008-07-11T14:39:00.001-07:00

"If you're filled
with affection
you're too shy to convey,
meditate in my direction.
Feel your way."

Bob Dylan - Simple Twist of Fate (1975)

2008-07-09T15:26:00.001-07:00

"They walked along by the old canal
A little confused, I remember well
And stopped into a strange hotel with a neon burnin' bright.
He felt the heat of the night hit him like a freight train
Moving with a simple twist of fate."

Bob Dylan - Love Minus Zero/No Limit

2008-07-09T15:22:00.001-07:00

"My love she speaks like silence,
Without ideals or violence,
She doesn't have to say she's faithful,
Yet she's true, like ice, like fire.
People carry roses,
Make promises by the hours,
My love she laughs like the flowers,
Valentines can't buy her."

Two great things I saw yesterday

2008-07-09T04:37:00.000-07:00

I saw Giant #3 by Zhang Huan in a gallery yesterday (I wish I remembered the name of the gallery). Here are some pictures of it. If you click on those images, you can see them better.

I was not expecting it to be so big. It must be at least 100 feet if you stretched the thing from end to end. The whole giant is made out of animal hides, tacked together, hooves and all. I think art should punch you in the face from time to time. That thing really knocked me out.

In the exhibit, there was some text by Huan about how conceptual art does not serve him and how social realism always serves what his body wants to say. I am completely misquoting him and probably misrepresenting him, too. But whatever he said, I loved.

Also, in another gallery, I saw this painting "You Can't Stop and Smell the Roses with Amphetamine Psychosis" by Larry Johnson.

I think the painting is actually called "Untitled (Courtney Love)." I have always liked her. Anyway, I detest drugs, but something about those woods in the painting gives me the creeps in the best possible way. I have always been a sucker for art about psychological dysfunction. I think because this is the stuff that is the fucking truth.

I have no idea what Johnson's painting has to do with this Livejournal entry. I still don't understand what Livejournal is. Do people still really use that? I think I missed this part of the internet.

I have noticed that Livejournal seems to give license to people acting inordinately goofy or sad and wonder why that is.

Just wanted to share some beauty with you. Hope you'll check these artists and their work out more today.

Renting Babies

2008-07-08T10:54:00.000-07:00

Dear EB,

You can rent babies!

Look: Renting Babies

DL

Les Demoiselles de Rochefort

2008-07-07T20:35:00.001-07:00

UPDATE!! on Savage Grace, the movie

2008-07-06T06:52:00.000-07:00

So, I finally saw Savage Grace. And while fellow natural redhead Julianne Moore, the greatest and most beautiful actress alive today, can do no real wrong in my eyes, I found the movie so profoundly disturbing in the worst possible ways that it has given me horrific dreams for days. Listen, I thought the movie was going to be about bakelite. I love bakelite. This movie is more about insanity than bakelite. The combination sounds cool, but I have had my fill of insanity for a lifetime. And it wasn't a combination really. Where was the bakelite? I wanted to see at least a couple of people wearing bakelite and I didn't. So, I can't really recommend this movie, although it is not bad per se. And if you are into movies about insanity, I suggest seeing One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest instead. If you are into bakelite, I suggest finding the people who are still selling it for cheap at yard sales because they don't yet understand its magical/economic worth.

Also, in other entertainment news, I would like to take this opportunity to say "In Your Face!" to the doubters and haters in England who didn't want Jay-Z to be in the Glastonbury festival cause they thought hip-hop is not rock. Hip-hop is everything. Just look at these sales: In Your Face Sales for Jay-Z in England.

And then, take a listen to the master: Amazing Jay-Z song.

You are not dead

2008-07-06T06:36:00.001-07:00

I would love you if you were dead
But you are not dead you are alive
You body ringing in me, ringing true
Ringing true, not like a blue nerve net
Encased in glass
Not a red rubber heart encased in glass
Not a burned out body encased in glass
But a real thing, a soft thing
A soft and wild thing
I am so glad I left the world
And found the wildness beyond in you
I am so glad I was brave enough
To leave the place in me that was not wild
To go into the cave of life that is not dead

Style is Joy: Listen to this today

2008-07-03T10:44:00.000-07:00

Listen to Bhanu Kapil today.