The first resurrection, Laura Kasischke
reverence can suck it
Something in us suffering touches,Christian Wiman (“More Like the Stars”)
teaches first to find
little coves in our loves
from “Okaloosa,” by Derrick Austin
I think we should say something that constitutes years together.Eleanor Tipton, from “To the Body” (Pleiades vol 31 no 1)
"Dear god of armed robberies and puff-puff-pass,
a chalk outline unpeels from the street, smashes
every windshield, and leaves florid temples of crack
on porches. Burnt-black pleats of joint-pressed lips
prophesied your return.” …
Phillip B. Williams, "Of Darker Ceremonies"
On a semi-related side note, this reminds me of that stupid fucking Gregory Corso quote that made the tumblr rounds a few months ago. Essentially lauding him for saying that many of the women in the beat scene were institutionalized because they were unconventional women in a patriarchal culture. Which like, I am not disagreeing with that statement HOWEVER if we are going to talk about these women’s lives and works (and funny how they are all totally nameless in his quote), let’s also talk about all these dudes’ rampant misogyny, racism, etc. There is more than enough evidence on record that talks about how women were belitted, sexually harassed off stage (sometimes while they were reading, and this phenomenon lasted as long as the dudes who ran the scenes were still hanging around: my father told me a story of how at Naropa in the 80s, Gregory Corso would make comments about women’s breasts while they were on stage), not taken seriously, etc etc. It is almost hilarious how often these kinds of “radical” poetry types displace the blame on systems they rhetorically cast as separate from themselves. But if they actually looked at how their fucking scenes were/are structured, their claims to radicality and inventiveness JUST MIGHT seem rather empty and pathetic. IMAGINE THAT. *teeeheee*
YES! A MILLION TIMES YES! THANK YOU FOR SAYING THESE THINGS.
I always wonder what *readings* are for, anyway—when most poets reading don’t wanna look anyone in the eye, are stumbling over their words, as if they’re seeing these poems for the first time—yet they’re always traveling these huge long distances to do this?!? …
& then it’s like, oh right, this is abt creating an exclusionary community—showing, showing in public who GETS it and who doesn’t. holding the ppl in the audience who aren’t PART OF IT hostage. silencing them. In public. While—like the Beats, like the Modernists, like the Language poets, etc etc forever & ever amen—making a huge show of having an open loving community of acceptance.
I am under no obligation to make sense to you.Neil DeGrasse Tyson (via knowingsoul)
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What is my mother tongue? American history has complicated any opportunity for me to find out what my mother tongue would be. There are so many tongues that have their place here. Some still exist. Some are extinct. So which one? … I believe, like these histories, it is a mixture of tongues, a mash-up of rule and conquer, assimilation and adaptation. And in the States, my tongue is kind of an orphaned one. I’m trying to locate the cousins and aunties to my tongue, if that makes sense. So, yes, my “native” tongue is me, but it’s not all of me.LaTasha N. Nevada Diggs (BOMB, Artists in Conversation)