Poncho Peligroso’s “the romantic”

                Poncho Peligroso is a poet worth blogging about. Besides working tirelessly in his newly appointed position of 2011 Poet Laureate he managed to come out with a book called “the romantic”. At 10,000 words, this is the largest offering of Poncho I’ve ever seen, a gathering of some of Poncho’s previous poems. Usually I get smaller portions. But the main question should be: Is “the romantic” good? Having read this book a few times, I can answer with a resounding yes. 

                The book is structured in an emotional way. Besides his humorous poems you’re treated to some extremely personal, anxious and oftentimes sad poems dedicated to an unknown girl. Whoever this girl is must be someone the narrator cares deeply about and perhaps even loves, hence the title. Some of the saddest ones involve the pains of distance, of moving away, and of finding out exactly how to care about other people. Common themes running throughout the poetry book include paranoia, humorous violence (in absurd chaos fashions involving personal hygiene and boners, boner chaos if you will), death, geography, love, beauty, and the emotional attachment that comes with the internet. 

                My favorite poems are those which effectively create an implied space or story. In poems like “watching you type” you get the feeling of an entire story behind these few interactions. Little lines reference what may or may not be a relationship. By not explicitly stating it the reader can make their own inference into what the poem is trying to convey. Towards the end of “the romantic” the humor is stripped away to a large degree revealing its heart. Reading the final poem entitled “the romantic” I peered into Poncho’s past, not as a poet, but as a person. It chronicled his evolution into the poet, the same one I wrote about months ago, about how he was a person who had just discovered himself. Upon finishing this chapbook I stand by that earlier statement: he has found himself in this language.

                I laughed and had tears well up a little bit. This may be due how much of this applies to me: I’m leaving the state I grew up in, much like Poncho is leaving the house he lived in for most of his life. We’re both traveling to new places. Even the way he writes about love is how I would like to if I could. But I’m not sure if I could.

                You may not know this due to a lack of Podcasts but I’m an even-tempered sloth rare to show any glimpses of ‘genuine emotion’. Lately I’ve begun to experience this emotion commonly known as ‘love’. Actually I’m not certain if I’m doing it right: oftentimes I can’t speak, despite being perfectly articulate. I feel it is tough for me to say exactly what I mean, to cut through all these words to a few, simple direct phrases. Oftentimes I feel our language limits us by providing so many options. We skirt around the words we want to say rather than use those direct, easily definable ones. Sometimes I’m asked a question an extremely personal one and I can’t answer. My eyes dart, I don’t want her to see my tears welling up. My voice stays silent; I can’t have my voice crack. Staying silent allows me to retain the idea in my mind that I’m macho, something that I’m definitely not via reality. Finally, once I answer and have my voice nearly crack from the emotional pressure I immediately go in for a hug and press my face against her shoulder. I love that hug. I love that person. They can’t see my tears rolling down my face. Better they feel them on their shoulder. After they hug back I know they understand, like they said ‘yes’ but with a physical confirmation. 

                “the romantic” makes me realize I’m not alone in feeling this way. Poncho cuts through all the circular speaking we employ in our day to day lives. Often this direct language can be extremely powerful, ungarnished by superfluous words. It can be difficult to read, harder to write. When writing it is hard to be honest with oneself but Poncho is perhaps one of the most honest writers I’ve read in quite some time. It’s a beautiful book.

Post-Tennis Poetry Reading

                Going to these poetry readings online, I longed for a time when I could attend one of these readings in real life. Finally my prayers were answered. Jacob Steinberg decided to prove the power of New York City’s poetry scene. A moment passed where I felt tempted to let my guard down and appear. When I looked at the sky, a concrete shade of grey, I decided against it. Besides, with all those ‘screen-shots’ that could be taken, I prefer to confine myself to text on the internet for now. 

                Jacob Steinberg graduated from NYU and he was the host of this Tennis-themed reading. The reading began with “Chocolate Milk” by Spencer Madsen. For a while they had a difficult time reading it. An arrangement formed where Jacob would consume a foul liquid as Spencer read his poem about Chocolate Milk. 

                Argentina received attention. I’d never heard any contemporary poetry from Argentina before but it was good. “PC” explained how the power of computers brings people together like a bonfire. By reading them in Spanish, we were able to get some attention outside of the United States. Hopefully this is the first small step towards a non-English international coalition of boykittens. 

                The individuals at the reading stated Steve Roggenbuck brought everyone together. When Spencer Madsen talked about the beginning of the lit scene he mentioned how difficult it was to find like-minded people. Once Steve added him, this entire online community was available to help him through. “James Franco” was one of Spencer’s poems. He read it with vigor. The poem reminded me of college. I miss college. 

                “There are all these girls. Why do none of them like me?” began one of them. This was perhaps the best beginning of any poem I’ve ever heard. It had a good self-depreciating sense of humor; a type of humor New York patented in the early 70s. Spencer Madsen wrote this poem. Actually Spencer Madsen read a lot of poetry based heavily around college, moving and unrequited love. Listening to it felt wonderful. One of his poems focused on a girlfriend who moved away to Florida to go to college, leaving him in the cultural wasteland of Staten Island. 

                The poetry reading was emotional. Spencer wrote extensively about trying to find love. Jess Dutschmann broke that focus. Instead, she wrote about the person she was dating, a man named Jim. Apparently she brought the only experience of happy relationships. Looking at her, I felt the sass. Listening to her poems end with “That’s it” confirmed it. 

                “Ode to Flatbush” was a sweet poem by Jacob Steinberg. Dedicated to Flatbush, a place that many New Yorkers feel uneasy about, it was extremely tender. Considering the harshness the neighborhood often receives, it was great to hear some positive words about the place. 

                Poncho Peligroso’s poem “Epilogue Part II” was read by Spencer Madsen. For most of these poems, Spencer ended up being the main reader. We hope that by reading more poems from Poncho, he’ll attend more ustreams. Whether or not there is any fact to this hope remains to be seen. 

                FM Stringer (a man I’d never heard of) wrote a long poem. Jess did the honors of reading the poem. It was a long poem. A three part series, she saved the other parts. She referred to him as a ‘fierce guy’. Other parts followed later. 

                Spencer speculated on relationship statuses on Facebook. By now, he had recovered from his drinking. To indicate his sobriety he stood up. Jordan Castro may or may not be in a relationship according to this poem. After that was a poem about his work in a bike shop, in case you weren’t certain whether or not he lived in Brooklyn. “I want to pet a pigeon” was one line. He counted toes. 

                Poetry can be flattering. A series dedicated to J R came up. This was the reason for the ustream. So much poetry is based off of the love of others. Jacob Steinberg wrote based off of the love for another. Unrequited love ended up being the theme of the night. Large amounts of space separated Jacob from J R. What I felt was the extreme rawness and heartfelt quality. I’d like to explain why I enjoyed this, but words fail me, especially in such an overwhelming series. 

                Happy time eluded the reading. I thought if I had attended the reading in person perhaps I could have brought some smiles. Rather than hearing about the constant sadness of failed relationships, I might have read about happy relationships. The humor of Spencer and Steinberg made it a bit easier to handle. Poets feel.

                “I’m X” came up, continuing the theme of Argentine poetry. Jacob read it in English. The little books looked like passports. How a book or item looks is extremely important to me. “You” followed. Both of these poems were written by a mother of two in Argentina. We were advised she was beautiful, something none of us were able to independently confirm. 

                Jess Dutschmann went away to New Jersey. Before she left, she read some poems off of her blog. Recently she released an entire chapbook. You can read it all for free online at her blog. Hopefully at some point I’ll get around to reading it. 

                Steve Roggenbuck got read. Before Spencer read Roggenbuck he mentioned how he went on a date with someone from OKCupid, a favorite dating site of mine. As the date progressed, the date had not merely heard of Roggenbuck but had Steve’s chapbook in her purse. Unfortunately for Spencer, the date did not go well. While Steve has swag, it has its limits. 

                Allie read her own poetry. Finally we got to hear her voice. Her delivery was forceful. The poem itself had a certain rhythm. Once she had finished, everyone in the room felt overwhelmed. We wished we had heard more from her. In future readings (which Jacob and Spencer seemed keen on) we’ll get to hear more of her poems. 

                Finally it ended with a dance party. The song was a remix of Neon Indian’s “Should’ve taken Acid with you”. Drama ensued for a brief moment as Spencer’s laptop nearly died. Soon they realized it would live. 

Next time I’ll bring hugs.  

Poncho Peligroso’s Back!

                Many social media platforms missed Poncho during his vacation from the internet. Suddenly going from a tweet an hour to nothing is jarring to say the least. Writing a thesis paper isn’t the same as being the 2011 Poet Laureate. People expect to come to your presence on Facebook, on Twitter, on Tumblr, on Wordpress, or on Goodreads. 

                I remember where I was when I heard he was printing out his thesis. Everyone in the thread made specifically for online literary types grew excited. As we pictured his thesis, all hot and naked on the printer, unseemly images poured into our minds. We imagined his thesis as a being, a beautiful being with the gender we were attracted to, waiting for us. The thesis began discussing Frank Hinton’s poetry, it began discussing his poetry, and it began to subtly belittle critics of boykittens. Our eyes glazed over as his thesis did a little dance for us. Clearly that time spent practicing yoga paid off as it was infinitely flexible. 

                That time is over. We have him back to his rightful habitat not in some silly school learning things, but on here, on the internet, with us. A lot happened during his time away. First, in an attempt to garner him even more fame occurred in two deft swoops. We saw a Facebook fan page created in his honor, celebrating the 2011 Poet Laureate. Pictures were put up, celebrating him. Each time I saw an update I thought “Omar De Col, that macro fiend, is probably behind this page”. "Cutestboykitten" gave away the creator fairly quickly.  Of course this pales in comparison to the second, infinitely more epic leap to internet stardom.

                Google acknowledged Poncho’s status as the undisputed 2011 Poet Laureate. Wikipedia hadn’t gotten the memo. So we had to bring it to them. The first edit of his page proved to be effective. Eventually the article fell into some form of information anarchy. Reading the discussion page gave me the impression I was watching our gridlocked government decide how to screw people over by raising taxes or eliminating basic social services. After the article got deleted (though the supporters of Poncho’s Literary Activism were strong) the argument remains encased for all to remember in glossy internet amber. Perhaps one day we may extract that Wikipedia DNA to make a new page. 

                May 5^th officially announced Poncho had returned as the undisputed champion of the 2011 Poet Laureate Google bomb. For on that day, he released new poetry. It had been a while but finally I got new Poncho. “4 Bee Poems” is what I found on ‘AllWriteThen’ a twee name for a poetry blog. The poems themselves were great.

                Bees were the focus of each one. Poncho paid close attention to their smallness and sweetness rather than the stinger. In the first one, the bee transfers knowledge over to other bees. Realizing its own weakness it still manages to help others. The consecutive three go into even more affectionate territory, even a certain longing for affection of wanting love. For being a bee is not something we normally associate with kindness. More often we think about the pain they close instead of the care they have for flowers, for pollination. They are responsible for so much in agriculture. If you want to be nice to them, it would be real swell if you didn’t shriek and scream hysterically if they want to drink your Sunkist beverage. Let them. They have earned it.

                Twitter is a big part of Poncho’s appeal. His twitter tweets at some unfathomably fast rate. Over 12,000 tweets is something to be proud of, I think. Especially considering how many of them are so weird, so interesting, devoid of links, just thoughts. A poem of his called “Show Your Horse The Internet. What have you done” on the knitcore blog displays his skill of re-configuring the tweets of horse_ebooks and Google searches into a poem. Meaningless phrases are woven together to form a total whole. It feels sad, playful, weird and, like much of Poncho’s work, somewhat funny. 

                Reading new stuff from Poncho is a real treat. He seems to be in touch with his surroundings and his perspective on house plants and bees makes me happy. Too often we ignore what’s around us for what is considered important or relevant to our daily lives. Poncho’s work reminds us to pay attention to the little details.

Ustream Team

Living their Lives.

                Cupcakes introduced the poetry reading. If you ever want to attract people to a reading, free food is usually a solid choice. Art exhibits are made better, freer, and more enjoyable with food offered. Unfortunately, I was online and unable to eat any of their food. Those there got some delicious baked goods. For those online, we had to make our own dinner and drink our own beers.

                “Dead Poets Society” got a shout-out. It makes sense for the Internet Poetry Society (aka BoyKittens) to read this out online. Steve Roggenbuck had part of it posted in real life as a form of inspiration. Robin Williams is an inspirational figure. His hairy arms make me feel better about myself. Unlike Robin Williams, I don’t need to shave my arms on a daily basis. 

                A few new faces were introduced. Cassandra Nguyen read Blake West on his tumblr. In fact, this was the second time this weekend I saw Cassandra, the first was the night prior at Ms. Troyan’s lovely abode. Since I had once encouraged her to meet Steve Roggenbuck, I feel that I helped push along this great meeting of the minds. 

                “Eat when you feel Sad” by Zachary German got some attention. Balloons got a lot of attention as well. As Brett Gallagher’s reading progressed of Richard Chiem’s work, they constantly tried to derail the proceeding. Richard Chiem was even there in the chat room, showing off his IPOD music skills.  It felt avant-garde. Constantly the reader tried to focus on the poetry but broke down into laughter. For other readings, Brett appeared to be treated as the “straight man” as they played volley ball with the balloons.

                The performance between Stephen Tully Dierks and Cassandra Nguyen went fantastic. Each one read a line. Slowly the action became hotter and hotter. A twist completely changed it up. Obviously energy drinks were put to good use for this performance. Perhaps it wasn’t the inappropriate amount of caffeine they consumed. Instead, it might have been the rowdy celebration of their cat’s birthday. Sunday, May 2^nd marked the celebration of their cat’s birth. 

                Poncho Peligroso (better known as the 2011 Poet Laureate) had one of his poems read during the broadcast. House plants were viciously tormented and abused during this time. I cried a little inside. Gardening happens to be a hobby of mine. So hearing about emotionally abused plants proved to be rather heavy for a Sunday evening. Thankfully, the ending of the poem made it worth everything. 

                Beach Sloth got read on ustream which was infinitely excellent. Cassandra Nguyen read my Lookbook post which felt great. Never before has anyone read one of my posts online before. In fact, I rarely even read them aloud in person. Hearing it read tempted me to do a potential PodCast at some indefinite point in the future. Right now, it is merely a thought. I’m curious to see how my delivery and inflection would change the reader’s perception of what I write. 

                After much coaxing, we got a reading of Brett Gallagher’s work Vessel. Vessel is something Brett has been working on for a while. It takes place in a Fjord in Scandinavia. Two main characters (whose names I can’t begin to spell) interact. Somehow I enjoy it; I like the delivery and the rhythm of it. Saturday night I heard a bit of it but I still wanted more. Brett’s stated it will be published at some point. Hopefully that will be sooner rather than later, and I’ll definitely have my eye out for it. 

                Jackson Nieuwland had a great poem. The word ‘fuck’ got used more than I’ve heard from everyone in the entire week. Due to the strong language, it ended up being pretty funny. I try not to curse but fail most of the time. To err is to be human so the celebration of the exclamation point of words always is a bit relieving.  

                Finally the moment everyone was waiting for arrived. Cassandra Nguyen re-activated Facebook. A flood of friends came forth, after several added the incorrect Cassandra Nguyen (myself included, in my defense I only followed other people). Now she’s re-integrated into Facebook life. Things will be better for her, as countless online poets are there to ease her transition. As the UK went to sleep and New Zealand (UK-lite) woke up, one last poem remained.

                Stacey Teague got her poem “New Zealand Dinosaur” read by the collective group of four. The reading got passed off among each other. With each new line read by some with the prefix ‘popcorn’ they read it with as much gusto as you can muster on a Sunday night. 

                When they left, I remembered a New York Times article I read earlier on Sunday. It explained the allure of Soho in the late 70s/early 80s. Art movements are the most passionate in the beginning. They form tight-knit communities. Obviously the Boykittens have no geographic locale, but I feel closer to them, thousands of miles away, than I do with my coworkers. Boykittens have staked claim to their own friendly neighborhood on the internet. I guess it is the welcoming environment which has made itself a favorite bookmark on my browser.

                Have the Boykittens created the late 70s Soho of the internet? What do you think? I know my answer.

Ear Eater 5

                  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.

Love Storming Bebe Zeva

Courtesy of Steve Roggenbuck

              Love Storming is when you care about someone very much. Telling them “I care about you” doesn’t always cut it. Sometimes it takes a village. A village can be hard to assemble in real life, so you have to go to the internet. What you then do is tag a picture with roughly 50 or more people. Once this is done, you feel the love of roughly 10,000 or so comments existing as a broken up narrative. But this number only increases, if slower than before, never stopping to think why it exists, but simply being a part of the Facebook experience. It is in fact a living breathing internet organism, feeding off the participants’ wit and verve. 

                Steve Roggenbuck may be the genius of our interconnected generation. Without any sort of external help, he’s managed to become a force to be reckoned with on and offline. Twitter feeds, Facebook, Blogging, Chapbooks, he does it all with an enthusiasm which is contagious. I don’t know how he does it, but unlike many other writers, he invites participation. Most of his work and projects function only with outside participation. Plus, he adds a sense of humor and mischief that so many other writers lack. In case that wasn’t enough, he has confidence like you wouldn’t believe. Follow me on Twitter; Follow me on Facebook takes on a new importance with his work. 

                Bebe Zeva ended up being the love stormed person this week. Using a single photo of her, Steve then proceeded to tag about 35 people. Of course, this being Facebook, there’s really no limit to how many people can continuously post on the same picture, over and over again. Choosing Bebe was a wise decision as it is impossible to dislike her. If you don’t like her, it may be a problem you have, not a problem she has. There’s a reason Tao Lin and Megan Boyle made a documentary about her that I covered in extensive detail on this very site, or why they opened up a Kombucha bottle before giving it to her. MDMA Films might consider her documentary to be their ‘crown jewel’ of their ever-increasing collection of DVD releases. 

                The picture was simple. A screenshot, literally the most basic of internet skills was employed of Steve adding Bebe as a friend on Facebook. This was nothing too unusual for either participant, as they are both online personalities. Next came the tricky part. How can you tag the kind of people who will take an idea and run with it especially an idea as absurd as constantly commenting on a Facebook picture and transforming it into a full-fledged conversation, if not actual chat room? Can those people do online improvisation if required? 

Walt Whitman once said “For great poetry, there must be great audiences.” Picking your audience is probably one of the most important things you can do once you try to create such an epic experience. Not like this was the first time such a thing had been done, apparently there had been tens of thousands of comments on pictures and statuses before. Steve’s goal differed in that he consciously want this to be a memorable, enjoyable experience that could have participants leave and enter while keeping up the velocity of the comments. Getting a group of people diverse enough to comment during the Earth’s full rotation meant people outside of the US, in the UK, in New Zealand, and countless other countries in other time zones.

                “Feel the Inspiration” is the name of Steve’s Tumblr, but the chat felt more like “Feel the Love” as the project progressed. A natural flow of a chat room emerged, with Bebe even joining the conversation time to time. In fact, Bebe said she’ll be posting up an article on “Thought Catalog” about the entire enjoyable experience. Hover around Thought Catalog for when her version of the events comes out.  Megan Boyle stopped by to say hi as well, along with the older Rachel Zeva. While a few characters came and went, a hardcore group of people emerged to keep things going. Steve served as a director of the event, calling it an “anti-shitstorm” and “meta-chat thread”. 

                How did the love exactly spread? Over the course of the chat, everyone made new friends, thus continuing the original intention of Steve adding Bebe as a friend. I met new people, added 17 friends on Facebook as the love storm progressed. People swam in and out of different ideas. Sometimes it would be about finding a new soundtrack by putting up a youtube clip. Having music play in the background makes staring at a computer screen with a near-religious devotion that much easier. 

Focus turned to the giant thread itself, with people excited about who got which thousandth post (I was lucky enough to get four thousand, Louise Joy got the pivotal number of ten thousand, allegedly the cut-off point, but it continued after that with toe holes, a topic introduced by one half of the blogging crew “Philolzophy”). People even created youtube clips based on the excitement created by such a small articulate part of the internet, this moving clip being just one of many examples (thank you Jim Rowley!). One happy marriage came out of this intense experience. We wondered whether the thread could get a MacArthur genius grant, end world hunger, usher in an era of peace, win a Nobel Prize for Literature (beating Thomas Pynchon’s ‘Gravity’s Rainbow’), or get some sweet blog coverage. At least the last topic was almost guaranteed. In case the thread wins a MacArthur genius grant, the thread will be able to focus on that novel it’s always wanted to write. 

                Summarizing such an epic thread is impossible. Can I summarize a living, breathing thread? Figuring that out is like summarizing someone’s future. I will avoid making light of this important event on the internet, in the confines of internet poetry. Internet poetry has never seen anything so great; I’m moved to tears by this event. Visit it here, keep it going strong, and see the genius behind such an event which comes along as often as Hayley’s Comet. Think of it as the Woodstock of Flarf, the Boykittens Family, or, how I put it:

               

Courtesy of Je Sk

“This is the most important comment thread I’ve ever participated in.”

Ustream: Stephen Tully Dierks and Steve Roggenbuck

                 Ustream is a place where you can do lifecasting, or, as Steve Roggenbuck say “Live your Life” but this time on the internet with people watching. Some political events on Ustream get a lot of attention. It is those smaller events that really change the world. Remember the first Velvet Underground concert? You probably don’t, since you’re reading my blog. But you probably are aware that in the first Velvet Underground concert only about 100 people were there, and they all either became musicians, rock critics, or some other part of the great rock n’ roll machine. 

                Sunday, April 17^th at 8:00 CST could be easily compared to that first Velvet Underground concert. Everyone in the chat either was a poet a writer or a critic (Am I a critic? I feel I may be considered one). All of us are going onto bigger and better things, but this might be the first time we truly interacted in a meaningful, semi-anonymous way. Keep in mind the cooler things are the ones that don’t always get the most attention. Though small in number, we are strong in spirit. We are boykittens, hear us meow. 

                You could taste the anticipation. Part of the anticipation came from the Ustream’s various technical difficulties. It was interesting staring at Stephen and Steve’s faces showing expressions of disappointment. As Dierks went off in search of a more cooperative computer, I learned a lot about Roggenbuck’s face. Staring at it, the calm polite Midwest accurately depicted in Steve’s eyes, I felt reassured. Everything was going to be okay. This wasn’t going to be an ordinary poetry reading. When Dierks busted back into the room, I knew things were about to get real. 

                Things got very real. I’ve never heard Dierks voice before, but it was a powerful reading voice. A voice like that used to do the morning announcements in High School. You pay attention when that voice reads an excerpt from “Naked Lunch” even if the material strikes you as a bit unsettling. Suck it up. William S Burroughs would’ve messed you up if he had the chance and needed the money. Burroughs was addicted to heroin, so that may have been a common occurrence. 

                Inside their apartment felt strange. MTV, if you’re reading this, perhaps you could do a “Cribs” about the sort of bling online poets have. You can look through their fridge and freezer, gasping at the multitude of vegetarian eating options. As was their wont, they decided to list off all the food they had, as if to show off their ability to cook, a skill I lack completely (excluding microwaving). 

                Roggenbuck did not disappoint with his physicality. I feel Steve is an extremely active person, twisting this way and that. Whenever I see Steve perform a poem, I think of James Chance’s song “Contort Yourself”. Unlike lazy people staring blankly at their computer screens, Steve probably engages in some sort of physical activity while he’s flarfing. See his YouTube videos which teach us the importance of poetry, micro-flarf, gaining twitter followers, and so on.

                Many important questions were asked but not answered in the chat. Questions about David Foster Wallace, popping popcorn (which was shown in vivid detail), Omar De Col, LetPeoplePoems (a poetry site I’m very fond of), Zen Buddhism, writing, ‘A Walk to Remember’, problems with being a teenager in love, Pauly Shore, Live Tweeting of “The Notebook” and others. They were perhaps too numerous to even mention, you had to be there. I was there.

                Allegedly I was “dominating” the chat. I’m not entirely certain if this was true. The poems might have moved me, such as the visceral reading of “So Hawny” which makes you think: if given the chance, would you fuck a jar of peanut butter? Or is such an action kind of nuts? Beauty doesn’t have to be based on physical attraction, it could be textural.

                Watching them, I wanted Cassandra Nguyen to join them. I thought it would be funny to urge both sides to have Cassandra join the reading, despite the fact neither party showed a remote interest in letting that happen. Thankfully they both found it a humorous, bizarre proposition.  Apparently my lewd comments were considered the most successful but they were so of the moment that to republish them would lose the context. Suffice it to say someone mentioned the act of “spooning” with questions arising. 

                Together Stephen and Steve worked together to interact with the chat audience. Usually this is done to a large degree on Ustream. Somehow the couple managed to make it work when conventionally it shouldn’t have worked. Running in and out of the closet, removing footwear, it was a true rush to be there, if only electronically. 

                Pop Serial is a literary magazine run by Stephen Tully Dierks. Steve Roggenbuck is such a multi-faceted creature I’m at a loss of how to describe him, other than awesomeness personified and unleashed onto the internet, creating joyful abandon. I was there to see it all.

Poetry by Emily Dickinson

               Welcome to the Boykitten’s (or humanity's, take your pick) most collaborative effort ever! Poetry by Emily Dickinson is for all to partake in its many pleasures.  Steve Roggenbuck is the mastermind behind this deceptively simple concept. Multiple levels of collaboration are built into the concept. This allows people the ease to take part in the project in as big or as small of a role as they want. 

                Two roles are available to anyone interested.  You can work as a remix/editor of the material once it has all been compiled. Some material might be usable as-is, but other material might require forms of editing or rephrasing. While this may be wonderful work, going through the process of editing (and you can contact Steve at   steveroggenbuck[at]gmail.com for information on this) there’s a second role to play as well. 

                You can tag your tweets with #poetrybyemilydickinson. Any tweet with this tag will be considered as source material for this poetry project. So instead of using twitter for whatever you’re supposed to use twitter for, you can actually contribute something to literature and society in general. What Steve wants to do is show that Twitter and blogs are not useless for writers, but actually an important instrument in creating new bodies of work.

                Going through the tag, I’ve been introduced to countless new twitter friends and followers, including the 2011 Poet Laureate. I’m not sure if this is one of the desired results of Steve’s project, but it is an additional benefit. If you bother reading all the tweets under the hashtag, you’ll see a vast variety of people and ideas. Somehow, Steve’s managed to create an entire community of poets based off of a single phrase. These people have begun to follow and re-tweet each other. Already I have this as one of my saved searches, and I check up on it to see how people are doing. Personally, I don’t know how Steve is going to deal with re-tweets of the better ones (or more interesting ones).

                Part one involves the creation of this vast body of material. What I’d suggest is for you to do it, in order to create an even better project. The more participation this gets, the better it will be. Additionally, you might gain new followers and discover new online poets at the same time. Or you might become interested in poetry, which would accomplish another one of Steve’s goals. 

                Of course, Steve wants more people to get interested in this art form. Hopefully, by having such an easy way to encourage participation, he’ll be able to attract plenty of new people who otherwise might not have engaged or thought about poetry. That’s one result. Another will be the hope of Google-bombing the phrase “poetry by Emily Dickinson”. 

As I’m writing this, I notice the exact (un-spaced) phrase of ‘poetrybyemilydickinson’ is already the third result on Google search. So perhaps with a few more tweets, this can become the number one result. Steve’s calculations suggest this would hijack roughly 50,000 visitors per month. Instead of people simply finding out more about some dead person, they’ll find out more about an alive and kicking Steve Roggenbuck, a boykitten in the truest sense of the term.  Consider Steve the Santa Claus of online poetry, wrapping up gifts for your brain. 

                I encourage everyone to partake in this fun and interactive collaboration. Join the party. Participate today. Learn how to engage others through the power of poetry!

PS:

 If you would prefer to have poems of over 140 characters, there is another option as well. The fantastic concept is you ask to be added onto the author list. After that, you’ll be approved to publish a poem on there, full-length. Double-posting is not allowed, meaning if you’re the most recent poet, you need to wait until there’s a new submission. Go here "Let People Poems" to learn more about this wonderful site. Thank you.  

Neo-Dadaist Trends in the 21st Century – A Response

        On Thursday, March 10^th 2011, Kat Dixon wrote a piece discussing a group of writers and poets. Usually this would not merit much attention, but these writers and poets happen to be people I’ve actually covered in this blog, people such as Tao Lin, Steve Roggenbuck, and Poncho Peligroso. Having some familiarity with Dadaism, as it is a favorite art form of mine, I figured “Why not give Kat Dixon some attention. And, at the same time, focus more attention on the writers she disagrees with”. Why do this? Simple: I just want to see exactly how they measure up to the original Dadaists. Personally, I’m not convinced the two sets of writers have many things in common.

                Dadaists were anti in nature. Anti-establishment, anti-art, they were a true collection of brothers working internationally to change our perception of art forever. Or so they tried. The fact that people still argue whether or not their creations are art, nearly a century later, is a testament to their truly great work. 

                These poets don’t possess the biting, often visceral, anger of the Dadaists. Dadaists were upset at the vast awfulness of their world, for good reason (World War I). Similarities may exist between the two groups but they possess dramatically different goals.  Yes, re-uses of online posts are abundant in their work, it isn’t negative. Most of their poems may be sad or focused on the self, but they aren’t anti. Rather than have these works as a specific arguments or a rebellion, their work is more a celebration. Dada wanted to destroy institutions. What this group wants to do is change the way people approach and interact with poetry. Being against poetry institutions and creating your own isn’t the same as being against everything. 

Honestly, I enjoy both Dadaism and the work of these young poets but their work doesn’t really correspond well to each other. I’m not sure why this was offered as a point of comparison. In her opening, she even shows how controversial the Dada movement was by quoting her art teacher’s question “Is it art?” Using Kurt Schwitters’ poetry, she then shows how Dadaism exhausted itself but influenced Surrealism. Personally, I see Surrealism as an evolution from the younger, brasher impulses of the youthfulness of Dada into something more positive and romantic. Surrealism to Kat Dixon appears to be a more proper art form than Dadaism, which she seems to believe is a ‘plague’. 

Kat’s definition of the Neo-Dadaists is a bit off as well. Tao Lin appears to be to the Neo-Dadaists what Tristan Tzara (Romanian émigré) was to the Dadaists. She calls their work primitive, irrational, and over-dependent on shallow introspection. Yeah, what the hell? Poetry should be purely rational. I don’t understand that part of her argument to be honest, and she never exactly explains what she means by irrational. Focusing on the self is the exact opposite of what the Dadaists did, the Dadaist reacted against things. They didn’t explain their emotions, even if they had them. Neo-Dadaism already applies to multiple art movements from the 1960s, such as the Fluxus art movement, so I’m not sure how this group fits into that definition anyway. 

Anonymity appears to be another sticking point she has with these young group of poets. Regarding this, I might not be the best person to discuss openness regarding the internet, as I write as a sloth, but I disagree on this point as well. Nearly all of the writers infuse a lot of their writing with their personalities, perhaps more so than the average poets. They write under their own names, as opposed to some false identity. Whenever you go to Steve Roggenbuck’s or Poncho Peligroso’s websites, you see countless images of their pictures in various degrees of shock/apathy. 

 “Neutral facial expression” gets a mention in here, so I’m happy that she’s clearly done her research, either that or she’s absolutely sick with getting confronted by it. Her reference to the poets being emo kids who didn’t grow up at all feels a bit harsh. Considering how later in comments she accuses some of the poets of being personally affronted, it feels a bit hypocritical considering her more personal than objective criticism. This might be the worst part of her article to me and felt oddly petty to simply state “Oh they never grew up, poor emo kids. Guess they’re going to cry about it”.

Besides, emotional detachment isn’t exactly a hallmark of emo kids, usually the opposite. Besides, I thought the emo thing had sort of ended, and the emo kids grew up into hipsters. Or maybe I’m wrong. Please let me know.

Finally, she discusses Poncho’s manifesto, which I’ll republish below:

Language is language.

Words are words.

Poems are poems.

Words are language.

Poems are words.

Poetry is language.

Run wild.

Regarding this, the 2011 Poet Laureate does explain on his tumblr how he meant “All language has the potential to be poetry if we want it to”. Is this necessarily a bad thing? Discovery of new forms of expression is a good thing, as is an embrace of the ‘primitive’ vernacular language we use on the internet. Remember how John Cage stated “Everything we do is music”. Basically, it is the same idea with poetry. Whether or not you find their work to be poetry or not, they simply explore language in a more direct and forceful way than most people do. Her discussion of their work criticizes it for the simple language. Flowery or sophisticated language isn’t the hallmark of a great writer. A lot of great writers used simple language to great effect. Would Hemingway have been the same writer with an ornate approach? I doubt it. 

Finally, the ending reveals her true feelings towards the movement. Kat hopes the movement will ‘yawn itself out’, a clever way of saying it will exhaust itself. Though she might not enjoy the poetry it creates, it might be the beginning of something better. All of their poetry is still new, they’ve just found themselves, to hope for a movement to just get a hint and die off is harsh. Even her not particularly beloved Dada evolved into Surrealism, an art form she clearly has warmer feelings for. Perhaps if she doesn’t like what they are doing now, who knows how their work will change. Later on it might morph into something she appreciates or enjoys. 

Overall though, I’m glad she wrote this piece. I hope she continues exploring and analyzing poetry (visit her blogspot here)since she clearly enjoys it. Perhaps her next article might elaborate further on poetry she enjoys. While I might not agree with her article, she clearly did research on the poets involved. Though she didn’t like it, she did continue to give it additional coverage. By giving the internet poets attention, she inadvertently promotes them and their goals. To see an extremely spirited debate, I’d suggest reading the comments at the bottom to see various people’s reactions. 

Art’s purpose is to provoke. If these poets’ work provoked Kat Dixon, whether good or bad, that means they clearly serve a purpose. 

PS: I’d like to not call this group of people Neo Dadaists. Whenever a group first gets labeled, it is hard to shake a label off. Kat might not have realized this, but she may have given them a name which could stick. Since I’m not fond of this label I asked Poncho via Twitter what label he’d prefer for his literary movement. 

As per Poncho:

                CALL US BOYKITTENS