Sunday, April 28, 2013
"...you are out / and a thing / is like you , through, more it, / too, shook the swamps..." / Poem up to Dear Sir,
"Town, of Furs" ( from a series of a bunch of Town, of's ) is ready to be et in Dear Sir,'s newest one, get yr slice of upside down cake over at Dear Sir,
Now at least three ( 3 ) readings series in Nashville ( ? ) - PoetrySucks! & ( its new altered incarnation ) Sing Again Soon / Vanderbilt's Front Porch & Poet's Corner ( plus on-campus readings ) / & Barnes & Nobles' Lyrical Brew ( events nowhere listed on their website, check fbook ). Needless, a culture appraised long for music ( even if country ) ought expand ( outward, forward ) into more artfull aware less tired avenues with/in language; a re-appraisal of Nashville's chances for literary relevance in a national perspective is being cultivated. Cultivated, though, and bestly, by non-academic presentations of poetry ( this is in accord with the astounding house-show culture that exists concurrently ).
Plus Parnassus ( eh, but less eh with David Sedaris coming to town ) & new Howlin' Books ( adjacent Grimey's off 8th ) to boot, cahoots ( someone in the know said they may be hosting readings )...
& 'Pider 2 wants that art ya'll: send an art or two or three to us to gawk to, submissions to firstname.lastname@example.org
Thursday, April 25, 2013
Readings last night, Dino's hosting a joint venture: Sing Again Soon, Richard Houston's gem baby, hosted Whit Smith, Joshua Gillis, Spencer Connell, Harry Kagan, but then I lost Kendra Decola for the roof, and for pitcher-beer, it's an easy roof, and below me I could feel timbres of microphoning words, sure. It was a social drinking smile house, it's a bravo moment for the nashvillers that are (in/to) it, and burgs were getting stuffed in mouth places where words are from out of.
Chrome Pony was the buzz of intermission and postscript.
The house show was a smash too: Kin Ship became all the new halloween costume ideas for October even the day after, Beef Oven - plus Boo Hags ( ! ) - ran the home room deep bones lurch by loud boxes connected to their connector limbs, and The JAG got its way denim knight python bangs.
Next reading(s) around town:
4/25 - Tonight, crap, tonight, Lisa Dordal at Scarritt Bennett Center at 7
5/4 - Black History House at The Downtown Library
Tuesday, April 16, 2013
Oye, the planet the sun is spreading lines, we can show our jaws against all the rest of our bodies again, having no conversation, monologue atop which Yo La Tengo will be laid.
Farce, a James Joyce has quick litters he told his brother:
August 26, 1928
Hired a new secretary named Beckett. Writes letters for me. I read
them and I have no idea what he’s talking about. One to the
phone company starts “The bill. The bill. The bill. I can’t talk
about the bill.” What the hell does that mean? It means I am in
And lo, our eyes doth not deceive thou: 'pider 1 poet Chris Hosea has won the Walt Whitman poetry prize ( 5,000 cash, plus street cred to bark like dmx if he wants ):
Also, Beef Oven, smashy spit gravel party they are, did double show last week, at Dino's, bless their souls, then Mercy Lounge to nightcap ( I got a large hunk of the shell of an orange lodged under my middle finger nail which oozed vitamins into me, curse ).
The Beefs and John Carpenter, plus mystery 3rd band, are playing The Caldwell House houseshow on the 21st, come out and have a garden party with us springtime radishes ( and if you have a bad-mitten court to set up, bring it ).
Tuesday, April 2, 2013
a, most intimate, most near me right now, is the lady with one problem: 'sitting' in a chair but not still, humming, grunting, popping up side ways hair curls slappin' round, she is closer ( contempt is no sign of contentment, but it pulses about me often, which means what, unexamined life not worth living, public spaces are sprawls of/for the erratic, absurdist, unconscious, stomping ruffian ... )
b, missed Brenda Butka read nashville, had the reading to think about all day, but time got tight and rain too, so I think we got gin.
b2, got through Black Warrior Review's most recent 39.2, and was less than fun about it, among the best ( which is to say unexpected, burgers with strength, genre stretchering were Tasha Matsumoto's piece on Maritime, Shena McAuliffe's bio-collage-prose, and Evelyn Hampton's Blondlot...
c, ranch ghost boys glory hole a magic show in the grace swag moat with their Road To Bonaroo performance: warhol velvet, post-now, urban curb spit rock denim worn leather selves, caballero dead water man whistle, show was more than music involving literal show, anticipation of only music with no sight ( a blindman's life for what seems ages ) then they rip out the sheet show themselves and show ourselves for magnanimous joy curse word our demonic warm applause and the hot cheer on the inside got put outside that night.