Shaun Gannon began the marathon Ustream chats. Lately there have been a plethora of these going on, allowing for mere passers-by to become fully engaged. “I am Shaun Gannon” is to Shaun Gannon as “I’m Rick James Bitch” is to David Chappelle. While it is funny, it isn’t all that he offers. Shaun writes other poems as well. Some of those other poems were read by his geologist friend who got somewhat intoxicated. Once this ‘pre-gaming’ party ended, we headed off to the next Ustream party. We bounced.
Ear Eater 5 came up next. People waited anxiously for it to begin. People began discussing teeth. Cassandra Troyan’s teeth looked great. All of a sudden they broke into song, specifically “I believe I can fly”. The song moved the multiples of people residing in cyberspace. Since this group resides and publishes poetry on the internet, it only makes sense that they would try to interact on Ustream.
Someone explained to us the importance of unicorns. While we had the beginning, we learned how nice an apartment you can get in Chicago. I feel that it was really strange moment when Ken Baumann read a poem from another laptop. Those in the Ustream listened to him as he read from a remote location. For a brief moment, I realized one of the goals which bring together the boykitten movement. Perhaps more so than any other literary movement, it openly embraces the internet. Most other literary movements usually shun the internet or aren’t as savvy about using it. Boykittens know how to use it.
The readings were great. I felt strange watching it from such a far distance. Oddly, my experience with poetry readings in real life are not as good as they are online. Perhaps the poets are more active knowing that they are being judged by an anonymous audience. Anonymity on the internet means it can get a bit harsh regarding the criticism. Some of the criticism is rather crude, but some of it misses the point entirely of the work (see Kat Dixon’s article ‘DadaGate’ as it has been dubbed).
Brett Gallagher began with “Vessel”. I liked the reading. Seeing his body’s rotation as he read showed a certain affection and attention to his own work. This sounds silly but a lot of writers tend to treat readings as a formality rather than a performance in and of itself. In this case Brett treats it with proper attention. Considering the sheer amount of words, he didn’t get very tripped up, as if he had practiced this quite a bit. Passion emanated from his delivery, it felt wonderful. Note “Vessel” will be in full-fleshed form at some point in the near future. Look out for it.
Online poetry readings bring love. Even those who felt sad in the beginning grew happier as the chat progressed. People merely talking to each other brought joy. Slowly the host Cassandra Troyan and the virtual host Steve Roggenbuck began working in tandem. It can be strange giving attention to two parties happening simultaneously. The two groups began to merge together as bizarre forms of flattery fused the two groups together. ‘Driving Me Wild’ ended up being a major chant of the night. But the next reading ended up allowing for silence on both sides, serving as a palette cleanser to some degree due to its quiet nature.
Devon King came with musical accompaniment. Usually poetry readings don’t include an entire backing band. They were surprisingly quiet. Percussion and drones accompanied the reading. I liked the drones a lot; they grew more and more massive. For me the drones appeared to be well done. At first I didn’t get why the drums were there, but slowly it began to form a full whole. Each tap and hit worked against his reading’s tempo. By having two separate rhythms, it allowed for an extremely weird poetry-music hybrid.
“Sex Hair” began Carrie Lorig’s reading. Apparently she was born in Poland, studied in Wisconsin, and has generally been all over. Her poem about horses was enjoyable, as I have a thing for animal-centric writing. ‘Our flow is hard’ introduced her poem which she explicitly stated “was not about periods”. LetPeoplePoems published this wonderful weirdness. Despite being so far, she had a surprisingly strong performer. “Swamp Gods” celebrated the rivalry between swamp things. NewWaveVomit got some attention to, as Ana C hung out in the chat room. Her poems were extremely funny as was her delivery. Then, in case we weren’t sure if she was a good sport, she wore a blanket under the drunken audience’s request.
Finally, the end drew nigh. The laptop itself ran out of energy as this happened, almost exhausted by the sheer amount of literature it had consumed and shared. We left as virtual guests as the party winded on down into a drunken, debauched haze (or so I imagine).
It was totally worth it.