Monday, July 16, 2012

Aimless Reading: The S's Part 35 (Logan Ryan Smith

The Singers
Smith, Logan Ryan
The Singers

Given to me by the author at a reading he gave in Buffalo with Frank Sherlock in 2008. I think I mentioned this reading in the post on Frank Sherlock. I think I also mentioned in that post that there exists an entire set of photos of said reading on my flickr page.

Anyhow, one of the great pleasures of curating poetry readings with Aaron Lowinger was that he always seemed to have his eye turned in a different direction, poetry-wise, than my own, meaning he almost always brought surprising poets I'd never heard of, like Logan Ryan Smith.

I think every poet-curator gets kind of stuck in his or her own generation at some point. Once you've gone through all of the arguments for or against certain kinds of poetry and begun to see the poetry terrain harden among your peers, it become more difficult to look beyond it into generations of younger poets.

The ten-year age difference between Aaron and myself always meant that he brought fresh views to my sometimes tired and cynical poetry gaze.

from The Singers

Toys in the basement are throwing up. Bent over
like doubles of those that abandoned them. Vomiting
the same things, chunks of this and that similar to the
way their children would be. Garbage-Pail-Kid-Face.
Zitty Zane and Pockmarked Paul. Gathered together
in the November hall in the late afternoon where
the light fails and falls and causes a sense of weightlessness.
Crashing down, these astronauts are cushioned only
by the plush, neon carpet of the city skyline. Get on.
Go on, get on. Get out of here, away from forests, into
the bright lights and flash of city life. For a while.
Row your boat out. Go. Get. Gather in the second
chance at life you only get once. Get it now while
the getting's good. Gotten. Get. It's not over yet. No
not yet but getting closer. Move over, Rover, the sound
of the world is coming over. Get over to the other
continent and let tongues touch. Take not the granted
but gather in the forsaken. Clouds gone grey and
dirty. Betray the white-bright halo around the
sensation of waking; but don't wake up swinging.
Keep both eyes open even during prolonged periods
of immobilization. When hearts begin to burst all over,
surround sound, hold tight and watch. Burst after burst of
star-red springs, spring forth. Set forth only after the creation
has granted access. Sample, first, each taste from each
spring. Decided that stagnant can kill and below
toys are clicking their lungs out; listen. Rooftops.
Lick your gums.

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