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Monday, December 19, 2005

going South for poetry, and more poetry 

One of my favorite moments on trip to Baltimore and DC with Frank Sherlock and Brett Evans:

Frank: Hey, have you noticed how Rumsfeld looks like a porn producer?

Brett: Yeah! And Condoleeza Rice looks like Chuckie!


They're both so right? Don't you agree?
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Reading with Frank Sherlock and Tina Darragh was a pretty fantastic good time!

Yes to the Yoko Defense League! (see Frank's post prior to this one --with the super Ono photo)! Frank brought his copy of GRAPEFRUIT (by Yoko Ono), which the three of us took turns reading from, something I'll always remember, damn that was fun to read!

A good recording sample would be Tina Darragh's CCCC! SOUNDS, wow, you have to hear her to believe her(!), with a mix of the sound of Olson's skull THUMP THUMP THUMPING in that footage of Olson hitting his head, getting his point across (in his kitchen) EXCLAIMING about the feds coming down on Timothy Leary.

We drove to DC for good hospitality of Buck Downs. Buck has a show at the DC Arts Center of his grave rubbing poems.

Hassen and Christopher Nealon read yesterday at the DC Arts Center. Let me share a bit from each of their readings:

from Hassen's long poem "Sculpture of a Poet's Mythology":

Either/Or

Such as serene detail of the wood-carved trim.
This is built piece by piece? Pre-
fabricated? A woman came from Manitoba to buy shoes.
She was superior. I did not know the meaning of Manitoba,
just as I do not know a chapter of Leviticus.
("Eating Blood Forbidden")

All poets should know this. A
lover may let you touch her hair in the summer. As
soon as you slip a pen or a candle from your pocket, as
soon as you begin any particular description, she will
become reproachful and there will be a killer waiting for you.
Under your car. You will become a killer with your own hide,
cover, with stars behind your eyelids.

This is the meaning of all dreams. Destiny, the evil interstate
without billboards. Head-on into the dark,
never arriving. All poets should know this. You follow
in the direction the wheel turns.

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from Christopher Nealon's long poem "Concept and Category" in his book The Joyous Age:

It is very embarrassing to be devoured by your own hounds
Though I think the more empathetic four-legged animals understand
    how stressful it is to have your heart at the front of your body

And it could be worse: the vultures are merciless

There are qualities of mind we like to call emotion
There are qualities of speech that only come to matter if they're
    brought around to face the mind then sunk back down into the
    body

(why was he calling her, "little meester two eenches"?
"eew"
"give me a break, 'eew'"

[laughter]

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posted by CAConrad

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