Pop Serial and NewWaveVomit: Together at last

                Stephen Tully Dierks and Ana Carrete are aware of most, if not all, online poetry happenings. By law they must be. Pop Serial is S T to the D’s baby. NewWaveVomit, Ana C’s testament to ‘anything you need to let out’ used to be a member of the Talking Heads. Growing tired of all the partying, drugs, and literal vomit, NewWaveVomit settled down to focus on poetry over the past year. Eventually NewWaveVomit managed to transform itself into a website and gave control over to Ana after she found a gold ticket in her bar of chocolate. It helps that Ana is an accomplished poet. Go here to learn more about her.

                I eagerly awaited this meeting of the internet poetry powerhouses. Unlike countless other forms of media, I feel there hasn’t been a ‘poetry beef’ before between different parts of the country. By having this reading together Stephen and Ana prevented any ‘drive-by flarfings’ from occurring. They knew how much was not on the line here. Good thing they took the entire reading with seriousness more often associated with playgrounds or high-end bars than actual poetry readings. 

                We got thrown into the middle of things. Several people were walking. The chat watched as Stephen, Steve Roggenbuck, Ana Carrete, and Mike Kitchell along with other people walked around America’s heartland, Chicago, IL. I think other people might have been around. Really I couldn’t tell. Quickly everyone began making plans for pulling out ID cards to show they were ‘of age’ to purchase and consume alcoholic beverages. Steve referred to it as ‘carding hard’. Unfortunately we saw things only from a sideways angle. All I saw from a straightforward angle was a picture of a young Roggenbuck. Finally I can honestly say I’ve seen a picture of an artist as a young man. 

                “Congratulations you’ve arrived” some mysterious voice announced as they arrived at the poetry reading. Then we were treated to some shoegaze as in literally looking at people’s shoes. For an indefinite period of time we heard random conversations. Someone stated “That’s a bad angle. I think some of your viewers are going to get seasick” to which Stephen eloquently replied “Meh” or another equally innocuous response. 

                Ustream did not care for the venue they choose. We knew because of its frequent crashes. Towards the end of the week I tend to feel a bit tired, forlorn, and ready to call it a week. So I can’t be entirely angry at the liberal elitist social media. Perhaps it too got on a few uncomfortable conference calls during the week. It acted a bit too human for me. Negativity began to drag it down.

                A poll came up. Without asking a question, it reaffirmed the positive. The poll didn’t even ask a question. Roggenbuck set up the poll knowing we’d answer ‘yes’ since we are his positive pals. Everyone in the chat knew how important this ustream would be. Never before had all these literary icons come together in the same place in real life. We were extremely excited about this event. So did the audience who clapped and screamed “woo” at Stephen Tully Dierk’s announcement.

                Mike Kitchell (Impossible Mike) came up on stage. Wearing his trademarked white framed glasses (part of his ‘rebranding’ strategy) he began the session forcefully. Each time I heard a slight delay in the ustream recording I thought no. Apparently the technology heard my plea and came back. For me I liked the repetition of the square. The square was my favorite part of the poem. 

                Andrew James Weatherhead continued at great pace reading poems about Astoria, Basketball, and bits from the Economist magazine. Halfway into his own reading, he decided to engage the audience. Suddenly he put down the papers and began to talk. What it did was turn the reading into a conversation. Using this approach, he ruined any chance of hecklers to try and wreak the reading. Instead people began to find poetry a bit more approachable.

                Right as everyone in the room was about to feel that magical charge, the charge you get when you finally understand art, when poets and non-poets come together into a big circle and sing around the campfire, it ended. Steve’s phone battery died. I guess a phone can only handle so much poetry ustreaming before it thinks to itself “This is intense. I better go into sleep mode and contemplate my existence.” That’s what the phone did, I’m absolutely positive. 

                Everything might have been fantastic!

Ear Eater #6

                I sat ready. Food surrounded me waiting for consumption. My computer screen quivered with anticipation as I typed words into it. A few stared vacantly into their computer screens. They knew something was about to happen, something amazing, something that would change their lives forever and ever. 

                Steve Roggenbuck’s face emerged from the darkness. From darkness comes light. His teeth shone brightly out of the darkness. I’m certain Frank Hinton was happy. Everyone who was there appeared to be glad to see her. Words escape me in describing her attire. Photos failed to capture her radiating beauty. 

                All sorts of people were at the official gathering. Shaun Gannon appeared. Holding a camera Shaun was the videographer for the event. We heard countless people introduce and network among each other. In order to avoid the noise Steve showed off the surrounding area. Firefighters stood by outside. They were at the ready in case things got too hot for the poetry reading. 

                 Andrew James Weatherhead came out to Chicago from New York. While he introduced himself he explained how New York audiences were a bit more difficult than in Chicago. Though he had a slow delivery it was funny. Some of his poems had amazing lines, such as “Four more beers”, “Emails are unbelievable”, “Sleds sledding on other sleds” along with reading tweets. Metazen received some attention as Andrew read a few poems he had submitted to Frank Hinton’s site. Using weird details (ink jet printers, Statue of Liberty, etc.) made the poems that more graspable. 

                Frank Hinton read. “Fantastical Magical Life” got played.  According to Cassandra Troyan this was the first time anything like this had been done at Ear Eater. We watched her type things into a computer for the video. Once that had finished she read in a computerized voice with the caption “Sad Cave” above it. That was the title of the poem.  A girl and a boy hung out together. Each one began to explore the other, slowly, gently. Both of them rode in a boat together. Having such a long one drew me into the material. While it lasted 37 minutes it had become a whole environment with its short, suggestive sentences.

                Timothy Sanders read at the actual, in real life party. He’s the author of “Orange Juice”. According to Cassandra Troyan the book sold out. Coming all the way from Austin, Texas he began with a poem about a growling thing. I liked his delivery. Each word came out so clearly. For the first poem, he did a fantastic job of mentioning every single possible detail, how the animal moves, what it thinks, what it says, etc. Smells were described. Anything you could possibly want a description of had been included.  

                Meghan Lamb continued the evening. Introduced as a ‘poly-artist’ she had visuals and sound backing her up. The visuals included pieces of Americana, bits of farms, clear blue skies, etc. None of these are things I encounter on a regular basis. Her poem followed the video beside her to some degree. Listening to it explain the process of aging, awareness, and the bleakness of years passing. Growing up can be a bit gross and awkward. The poem felt extremely, unrelentingly dark. She asked why she pushed away all those bits of childhood, too quickly it felts. Stuffed animals were thrown on the floor. An ambient noise built up slowly. Using the same words over and over again made sense towards the end as Meghan made an entire environment come near collapse.

                Closing the evening was Mike Kitchell (known as “Impossible Mike” for the impossibility of his greatness). “A Contingency of Evil” got read first. He read it with a huge amount of energy. This one appeared to be bleak and surreal. Something was done with a millipede, something I cannot repeat on here nor want to. Really it takes a lot to shock me but the extreme details and gruesome actions were quite perverse. Later that evening I had nightmares about millipedes. 

                Seeing all the poets after the reading was exciting. We got a great feel of how they were normally. Great amounts of alcohol were consumed in the name of art. The inside of the refrigerator revealed that I and Cassandra Troyan enjoy the same brand of hummus, the rich creamy taste of Sabra. Everyone grew merry at the end. Virtual hugs were exchanged. It was a great performance. Ear Eater forever!