Mendon gig of SPEAK on the road…
Brilliant.
Great crowd, great reading, too much fun.
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Column will be late tomorrow because I’m rewriting a section.
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Rest easy, y’all.
Do you know how much I appreciate your feedback?
SPIN
The braids around her head
make me spin whenever
I look at her picture.
She lies on the white road.
She could be asleep. (I know
she isn’t asleep.) I spin
whenever I look
at the picture. She lies on the
white road, not sleeping,
eyes closed and dusted white.
The braids around her head rest
snaky in the dust, where she could be
any young girl anywhere
who doesn’t sleep in the road unless
it’s unavoidable, because
that’s where the mine
bullet bomb RPG caught
her. She lies in her braids there,
and I’m spinning around her picture —
a fragment, a white fragment in
dusty tears, the long streaks on my cheeks
vapor trails on my skin. The jets above me
drop nothing on their way into Logan.
The roads here are black and wet.
We have no dust here, no white dust here.
I pull my own hair out of its braid
and spin slowly down onto the couch to read
more news. She lies on the front page
of the local daily and the picture
is black and white and she is not sleeping,
though I know I am.
Gronked from ocvictor. All very Discordian.
1. Grab the nearest book.
2. Open the book to page 23.
3. Find the fifth sentence.
4. Post the text of the sentence in your journal along with these instructions.
“The three siblings had agreed to get the same tattoo, but he was the only one to choose to have it burned into his face.”
From “Shopping For Identity: The Marketing of Ethnicity”
by Marilyn Halter.
Dawn Gabriel (mom_star) was great at the Hut tonight…on a night which I thought was over all pretty staid and frankly, a bit lackluster. Only a handful of poems struck me as remotely interesting.
News about the 3×5 bout structure at the NPS this year makes me VERY glad I’m done. Can’t imagine how this will play out; shocked that they didn’t wait a year to implement it, what with everyone’s slams being structured to pick a four person team and almost all the slam season done. But, hey…who cares, right? The more teams, the merrier. Of course, we’ll see if that holds true as rumors seem to be predicting more than a few teams will be not going to St. Louis.
The fact that the quality of the poetry has been declining for years is all beside the point, I guess.
Which leads me to another point: as of midnight, my PSI membership expired, and for the first time in years, I’m not renewing it.
Kiss today goodbye…
OK…a larger revision, focusing the poem more sharply, I hope.
DIALOGUE
I tell her, the time between
late winter and early spring
really takes a toll on my
optimism about sweat equity: you survive
the dark months expecting you’ll find relief
in the growing light, and then
nothing changes.
that’s the problem with you, she says. all I
ever hope for is that I’ll
still be breathing
when the wind turns
lukewarm. I respond that
days like this
hurt worse than february’s worst
knife. just as the crocus
starts to crack the frost and pierce through,
you give up on hope and admit to a longing for bloodshed,
drunken fights in dive bars or a sudden burst of deadly lust
that carries you into a strange bed through a broken
window and from there into oblivion; every bad impulse
to self-immolation breaks out in you as if you were
a ruptured pod.
you think it’s wrong to feel that way,
she says. but it’s not wrong to
describe a heart as broken
if it is broken, or a fallen hope as
fallen even if it has yet to hit the
ground.
what you don’t get to do, she says,
is marinate
in the description until
you’re tender.
I don’t fully understand but I think we are
not so far apart. all this bloodlust in me
is just a way of acting the same thing she is saying.
I want to reach for her
and explain this but
there are shadows among my fingers
that leave me cold. there are bones
hidden in my flesh that I’ve never noticed.
I’m afraid the sun
won’t ever break through to warm them.
I’m afraid that
if I try to touch her,
one of us may shatter.
how pleased I am that I was able to get the damn PC up and running.
Although I’m a pretty experienced computer user, the thought of actually diving into the bowels of DOS usually makes me shiver.
Nonetheless, that’s what I did to deal with a conflict that was making the whole thing lock up on start up.
Using Annie’s laptop, I got some info from a bulletin board and tried a number of things, working from safe mode to start and then getting into actual DOS stuff…and it worked!
I feel accomplished…it also makes me really, REALLY want to go back to my Mac, which never had these problems.
Maybe I’ll look around for a cheap older iBook for myself as a back-up — got too much invested in the desktop to totally dump it, and Anne prefers Windows (although she initially got me hooked on Macs, go figure) so we’ll always have at least one around.
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Starting to book features again — got to get back to DC/Baltimore in the next day or two to get that settled; there’s a NYC thing floating around out there to nail down, need to finalize a Cantab date, and I’ve got to settle the Catskills Folk/Poetry Festival details.
I do have a Westfield MA gig coming up in May as well.
Ought to book myself a few around Worcester, eh?
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Off to meetings — more later. (I’m busy as hell lately.)
on the most recent poem. I made a few edits, but I’m gonna wait on more significant changes until after I do it this Sunday at the Hut. Need to taste it.
My PC at home is screwed, so I won’t be on much for the next few days until I get it taken care of…ditto if you’ve sent me e-mail; I only have limited access here at work.
Back soon, I hope — off to meetings.
on the most recent poem. I made a few edits, but I’m gonna wait on more significant changes until after I do it this Sunday at the Hut. Need to taste it.
My PC at home is screwed, so I won’t be on much for the next few days until I get it taken care of…ditto if you’ve sent me e-mail; I only have limited access here at work.
Back soon, I hope — off to meetings.
For everyone who finds spring less than completely hopeful.
DIALOGUE
I tell her,
late winter and early spring can
really take a toll on your
optimism and belief in sweat equity: you survived
this long by expecting you’ll get relief
for making it through
the dark months. that’s
arrogant, she says; all you can
hope for is that you’ll
keep breathing
until the wind turns
lukewarm.
I respond that days like this
can hurt worse than february’s worst
knife. just as the crocus starts to pierce through,
you give up and admit that you long for bloodshed,
a drunken fight in a dive bar,
or a sudden burst of deadly lust
that carries you into a strange bed through a broken
window and from there into oblivion; every bad impulse
to self-immolation breaks out as if you were
a ruptured pod. but
it’s not self-pity, she says,
to describe a heart as broken
if it is broken, a fallen hope as
fallen if it has yet to hit the
ground; what you don’t get to do, she says,
is marinate
in the description until
you’re tender.
I want to reach for her
and explain something
I don’t fully understand: that I think we are
not that far apart. all that bloodlust in me
is just a way of acting the same thing she is saying —
but
there are shadows among my fingers
that leave me cold. there are bones
hidden in my flesh that I’ve never noticed.
I’m afraid the sun
won’t ever break through to warm them.
if I try to touch her,
I may shatter.
These memes of late seem more intense, somehow…
Mark the ones true for you with an “x”.
(_) I never have been drunk
( ) I never have smoked pot
(_) I never have kissed a member of the opposite sex
( ) I never have kissed a member of the same sex
(X) I never crashed a friend’s car
(X) I never have been to Japan
(_) I never ridden in a taxi
(_) I never had anal sex
(_) I never have been in love
( ) I never had sex
( ) I never have had sex in public
(_) I never have been dumped
(_) I never shoplifted
(X) I never have been fired
(_) I never have been in a fistfight
(X) I never had a threesome
(_) I never snuck out of my parents’ house
(X) I never have been tied up
(X) I never have been caught masturbating
(_) I never pissed on myself
(X) I never pissed on someone else
(X) I never had sex with a member of the same sex
(_) I never have been arrested
(_) I never made out with a stranger
(X) I never stole something from my job
(X) I never celebrated New Year’s in Times Square
(_) I never went on a blind date
(_) I never lied to a friend
(X) I never had a crush on a teacher
(X) I never celebrated Mardi Gras in New Orleans
( ) I never have been to Europe
(_) I never skipped school
( ) I never slept with a co-worker
( ) I never cut myself on purpose
( ) I never had sex at the office
( ) I’ve never been married
(x) I’ve never been divorced (well…that’s complicated…)
( ) I never had sex with more than one person within the same week
(X) I never have posed nude (cough)
(x) I never got someone drunk just to have sex with them
(_) I never cheated on a significant other (ehhh, it’s a toss up)
(X) I never had sex with my boss
(X) I never have eaten snake meat
(X) I never jumped out of an airplane
(X) I have never been to a nudist event
( ) I never had a permanent residence outside of the state I was born in
(_) I never have ridden an elephant
(_) I have never made out with someone whose name I did not know at the time
(_) I have never had intercourse (anal or vaginal) without a condom.
( ) I never have smoked weed out of a beer can
(X) I never left someone at the altar
(x) I’ve never stalked someone.
(X) I never tried to blind someone
(_) I have never stripped someone against their will and thrown them out into public. (Long story.)
( ) I’ve never done a substance stronger than alchohol or weed
(_) I’ve never killed an animal or person on purpose.
(X) I’ve never had phone sex.
(X) I’v never been naked hot tubbing
(x) I’ve Never had sex with a horse!
(X) I’ve never watched cartoon porn
(_) I’ve never eaten a squirrel
(x) I’ve never been to africa
(_) I have never shaved my head
(_) I have never opened a keg before
(_) I have never vomitted with a distance of about 6 feet.
(X) I have never cussed out my boss, thrown my badge on the ground and stormed out screaming “I quit!”
(_) I have never eaten cat food.
(_) I have never used heroin.
—
(X) = You’ve never.
(_) = You have.
Add one of your own at the end.
I mean…aren’t we all?
You are… a chunk of meat!
Which random object are you? (Results contain pictures)
brought to you by Quizilla
Normally I don’t take these things, but I’ve been on a tear lately.
You’d never know I’m also very busy at work right now — I’m doing a lot of Web research for a project, and jump over to this frequently to keep my interest up.
Fun SPEAK last night:
— theme was “sharp” which brought out all sorts of weird shit;
— I covered 3 poets from Texas in addition to doing “Cante Jondo”;
— We got everybody ready for the “SPEAK on the road” gig in the not at all far distant town of Mendon, MA on April 8, which will have the theme of “community”.
More later — including some observations on what makes SPEAK work as well as it does.
Old school punk! You just say what you have to say
regardless of what everyone else thinks!
You’re one of my most favourite types of
music… You’re raw and uncut! You’re
surrounded by hype…just don’t let it make you
go insane…
What genre of rock are you?
brought to you by Quizilla
But you know, there’s an important point raised by realsupergirl, which is that the choices offered did not include any bands fronted primarily or exclusively by women — no L7, no Sleater-Kinney, no Julie Ruin, no My Ruin, no Bratmobile.
I think it’s a legitimate point — I know that there are lots of people who listen to grrl bands almost exclusively. Certainly, that’s as much a “genre” as some of these other “genres”.
I know, I know — it’s just a fun thing, an online quiz I shouldn’t take so seriously.
Tough. She makes a good point.
One of the things I do here at work is run what is usually called “diversity training”, which generally means I get to tell a lot of people stuff they should already know.
Part of what I do in the class involves showing a video that is actually a series of black and white still photographs of people in various situations. The trainees record their reactions to the photographs so that we can then explore how subconscious stereotyping affects our perceptions.
They then see the photographs again; many of them have been cropped, so they get more information in the second go-round when they see the full image.
One of the photographs is of a white guy in a leather biker jacket, headband, longhair, mustache, unsmiling, clutching a length of chrome pipe in both hands.
During the discussion today, someone mentioned a photograph that had a guy holding “a gun”. (For the record, there is no gun in any photograph.)
I was confused. “Which one did you mean?” I asked. “You know, the one with the gun.”
Then someone else chimed in. “He means the first one — you know, where the guy was holding the pool cue.”
In a few minutes, I had people telling me about the “pool cue”, the “lead pipe”, the “crowbar”, and a couple more who insisted it was “a gun” in the biker’s hands.
They were all pretty shocked to discover that the uncropped photograph showed the guy holding the handle to a baby carriage.
Now, I know this is a staged setting, but it struck me how every image these good, thoughtful folks conjured up involved something that is typically associated with a use as a weapon.
And I wish I could tell you it was the first time it had happened. It wasn’t. It happens all the time. Almost every time, in fact, someone (and usually more than one) will identify that chrome tube as a deadly weapon of some sort. This was just the first time the word “gun” had come up.
If you see a threat, the threat will be there.
And it makes me shudder to think of how many more people will be shot — in our cities, in Iraq and Haiti, and who knows where else around this world — because people will see the threats they’ve been conditioned to see.
Couple of long days…
Lea Deschesnes was great tonight at the Hut — some of the best writing she’s ever done.
It was great to see Rachel and George McKibbens there — I’ve missed them.
Got a huge new poem on tap for you tomorrow, I think…stay tuned.
