Filip Marinovich Filip Marinovich is a poet and a playwright. He lives in New York City. I am an American. Anthem anthem anthem. I've fallen and I can't get up. I am an american. So gat me out of here. I am Ernie among the shades. See me after class. Attack of the Kermit dogs. This ongoing series will invite distinguished and diverse artists, scholars, journalists, and historians to engage in a critical debate on current conditions, preoccupations, and explorations occurring in contemporary artistic practice that parallel the culture at large.
Dia had previously presented Discussions in Contemporary Culture from —95 in Chelsea. Jim and Ron and Oo La La. A book of essays and talks, To Be at Music, has been published. She teaches at the University of San Francisco. New work is on the blog hermofwarsaw. She attended the University of California at Berkeley and was born in St. Paul, Minnesota.
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Or how not to goHunted haunted Divine undauntedWith you as reader Knowing everythingHow not to go on? She has lived and worked in New York City since From the derivatives all I could learn inscribed, diluted, washed in the chalice. The smaller one, shaped like petal that contorted ejaculates in bliss. Layered and allusive, her work draws on her Irish roots and early American history weaving quotation and image into poems that often revise standard typography. Howe has received numerous honors and awards for her work, including, most recently the Bollingen Prize for American Poetry and a John Simon Guggenheim Memorial Foundation Fellowship.
Capen Chair of Poetry and the Humanities. She is a founding board member of the Gloucester Writers Center in Gloucester, Massachusetts, where she also runs a quarterly poetry series.
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She lives and works primarily in Providence, RI. Through the Moonlight from Return of the Native Let us always be about to be leaving one another for the eveninguncurl my fingers and kissthe center of my palmfeel the chemistryI bleed so you can see yourself in it. Living in cities, architectural momentswhen you become the spacethat the body contains—feel the physics—and shrink with meunder my para-pluie of bent tines.
Sluggish bees in late seasonsuckle empty soda cans. He has written and edited over 30 books, including, most recently, Wharf Hypothesis Lines Press, His poetry and criticism have been translated into 12 languages. He currently lives in Chester County, Pennsylvania. Robert Fitterman Robert Fitterman is the author of 12 books of poetry. Born in in a small suburb of St.
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He is the author of the long poem Metropolis, which has been published in four volumes. Rob's Word Shop was a storefront shop where individual letters and words were sold. The words and letters were either chosen by the individual customers or arrived at with my assistance. I would then hand-write or print the letter, word, or words.
Single letters were sold for 50 cents and single words for one dollar. As the sole proprietor of the store, I invited people to stop by for a chat and buy a letter or word or a phrase of words. All of these chats were recorded as videos and can be viewed on You tube—robswordshop. Each of these video conversations was then transcribed for a forthcoming book.
Rob: absolutely notCustomer and you know how to spell the words? Customer um Rob: This is Andy Andy did some of the films at Poetry Project last week Customer yeah, it was fun Rob: you just missed Steve Lawrence: he was? Lawrence: I have to go back around then, but maybe Rob: okCustomer and, uh, and then, uh, after you're doing that I'm, um, I'm gonna buy a, uh, separate letterRob: mm-hmm beautiful Customer no I I think landscapeRob: um Customer um all caps, I think it's kinda He is currently organizing a global anthology of outsider and subterranean poetry.
He has received numerous grants and fellowships including one from the John Simon Guggenheim Foundation , and the National Endowment for the Arts The Blackest Black Forest Just nada y nada, which means drop dead in your cleanest socks, o grand and fearless pumpkin.
Undertakings in which there is something momentous, earth shattering, or life changing waiting at an undisclosed location the end have not repeat been acceptable, or even advisable, for decades insert longer time frame. It is nostalgia personified ever since ever since the price of gasoline began rising, the increased industrial capacity of our treacherous neighbors to the east became an economic factor, and the calamitous aftermath of the fall of grandiose empires to the north and south.
Any such chase could, would, and should end in disaster, an upsetting of the lately achieved balance, a crisis that is to be avoided now that villagers across the land have erected new traffic signals outside their municipal swimming pools.
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Listen to what they are saying -- Please be careful when approaching the crosswalk; and be advised that the starlings, nuthatches, and finches must be collectively recognized for their contributions to the recent paper drive. This is the poem in which you are most happy, the one that most closely resembles you in all your minor notes of glory. Mark's Church in New York City.
His small press, The Figures , has published more than books of poetry, art writing, and fiction. He has directed the Geoffrey Young Gallery for the last 22 years, as well as written catalogue essays for numerous artists. Jack Kimball Jack Kimball was born in in Boston. He is an after-language poet and editor of Faux Press, Cambridge, which he founded in He lives outside Boston.
It's too embarrassing pulsing in is the deep mirror a light snow performing butoh. Ethical and esthetic boundaries pertain. I was hit in the face when he turned on himself. I knew I am unhappy and not — A toe-tap to signal potential Demon Puffs that you are not occupied, that you are on their side in the I-Be area. A head with no moving parts, transfixed silhouettes,plight dwellers' outlines — indexes to the gentlevarieties that keep steely details to a minimum.
Let's leave. At the launch event, a conversation with Daniel Lefcourt and Dia assistant curator Kelly Kivland will begin at 7 pm. Cavalli lives in Rome. How sweet it was yesterday imagining I was a tree! I had almost rooted in one placeand grew in sovereign slowness there. I took the breeze and the north wind,caresses, blows--what difference did it make?
I was neither joy nor torment to myself,I couldn't detach myself from my own center,no decisions, no movement:if I moved it was because of the wind. Norton in She lives in Chicago. For more information visit: www.
Padgett lives in New York City. I think so, and I hopethat you will too. He is a poet, teacher, and editor. He lives in Philadelphia, PA. Tuesday Sept 26thThe radio in the next room tuned to a classical music stationall night. Tuesday Oct 2ndEskimo headgear in the Museum. Tuesday Oct 9thFell asleep on bed while smoking, woke up to smoke everywhere,ran outside with the smoldering navy comforter. TuesdayMy legs are dolphins that cut across the surf.
Tuesday Nov 2ndAwake again: sleep, dream, the Andy William show, drink. Some people came in wearing trench coats. Fine words those. Tues Nov 16thOne more night, still here. Tuesday Nov 23rdSome nights you skip. Took many photographs. The many sides of the sidewalk.
Tuesday Dec 6thThe tunnel leads to probably the deadest area in the city. Sonny Rollinsplaying St. We are not found out. Tuesday Dec 13thPrints are not reproductions. Susan said this is a mistaken idea. Thanks for the book Dad! Two or three hundred color snapshots on the bathroom wall.
Two more Moore Menthols for the tall lady in the livingroom, the top few buttons of her purple dress open, her hairy chest, beautiful. I want to love in that world. What a jerk. The black glossiness of the black borders. That we are all custodians of something more—every face an argument against cultural suicide, and suicide itself. No Thanks.