Nochita

Nochita, an amazing novel by Dia Felix, is dizzying in it's poetic language that propels the bittersweet narrative forward. I guess you would call it a "coming of age" story. Nochita's childhood is charmed and idiosyncratic, as she is raised by her mother who is a new age guru. But this doesn't capture the feral magic of the language, so visceral, which makes this child's inner world glimmer. The crackling sensations of being alive and alert and intelligent and alone continue through the narrator's young life. Early on she is orphaned, and this hardens around the girl matter of factly, without sentimentality.

Nochita is overflowing with a wild poetry energy. It is surreal, but grounded in sharp edginess. It pulses. As the narrator engages with other characters, explores and questions sexuality, and experiences an array of drugs, she inhabits dense and crunching sensations. The ending hits with tempered expansiveness.

I loved this book and the singular writing and didn't want it to end.

Angelo Micah Olin and David Shapiro at Dia

Tonight I went to a fucking amazing poetry reading at Dia Chelsea. Angelo Micah Olin read unbelievably powerful poems. His work is unique and raw and unprecedented in its turns of phrase and shifts of imagery and emotional nuance. He read from earlier works as well as new poems, and it was great to hear those older ones once again and equally wonderful to hear the recent pieces, which I had read on facebook. His delivery added to the complexity and vulnerability and sincerity of the marvelous lines.

David Shapiro is a true talent. He read funny, lovely, understated, and finely crafted poems that were a delight to here. In addition to the magic of his work, was the magic of his presentation. He gracefully introduced and commented on each poem in way that was truly amusing and generous. I felt privileged to be in the company of two such special talents and forces in the poetry world.

Tim Dlugos, Powerless

I just finished Tim Dlugos' Powerless: Selected Poems 1973-1990. These are so lovely, sad, and masterful. His writing throughout is clear as a bell -- precise and gentle. His style is conversational for the most part, a bit meandering at times, but in a wonderfully delightful and sweet way. These poems convey so much. They are filled with nuanced emotions, longings, regrets, insights, and joys.

Most moving are the final series, which chronicles his AIDS years. They are written with great clarity, it seemed to me, and with heartfelt patience and gratitude. These are truly spectacular. They had me in tears.

I couldn't find lines to quote in and of themselves, because the beauty of his writing is more in the totality of each poem.  Here I will share the last stanza from an earlier work, "Day for Paul"

"...it's me
five years ago. I am on the verge of a big breakthrough
accompanied by pain. I have not read anything by Proust,
Dostoevsky, Rimbaud, or Frank O'Hara. I have not had sex
with the people I love and need most. I have not yet learned
to identify the people I love and need most. But I have
dreams about people who move like you, who make me feel so
full that waking up becomes a major letdown, and I want to
sleep all day and all night if it will make me feel that good
again, take me to the place inside my body where I can feel
you  living all the time."

Soledad Barrio and Noche Flamenca

I saw a wonderful flamenco performance at The Joyce last night. Soledad Barrio and Noche Flemenca are stunning. I have seen them before and they never fail to move me and transport me.

The singing and music come from such a deep, ancient, visceral place. It just cuts right through. The dancing is exact and masterful and, as I think I've commented elsewhere, utterly and beautifully virile.

The first part of the program consisted of excerpts from a longer narrative piece, "Antigona". I was nervous that it would me too... corny... mannered... or something. But instead I was treated to highly elegant and visually arresting artistry. There were so many stark and surreal moments, merging traditional flamenco with modern dance. I was transfixed by the segment when the female dancers performed from chairs, their emotional arms haunting and mesmerizing. I fell in love with those arms.

The second part of the program was three dances that were all amazing and the soloists received hearty and heartfelt applause from the excited and stirred audience.

sherwood forest

I love Camille Roy's sherwood forest. I read it in one long, pensive sitting, taking in the marvelous and biting phrases, enjoying the ride from poem to poem. She is one of my favorite writers.

sherwood forest is rich and dark. Lines snap at each other. Characters reappear and reemerge, themes of disturbance and crime echo throughout. The books reads wonderfully as a whole. Some standouts for me though are "Diary of 3 Words", "Red Hood", "Crime Story", "Embarrassed Tract", "Lucy in the Sky", "Sing Song" and "My Play".

Mel Elberg at the Zinc Bar

I had a delightful dollop of light in an otherwise dreary weekend: Mel Elberg reading at the Zinc Bar. Her poems are so dynamic and her voice is so direct and assured. Wonderful lines that come together in powerful moments. Some standouts for me were the earthquake poem, the crystal series, and the love poems. Each had it's own crackling energy and together this strong body of work was really dazzling.

Erosion's Pull

Maureen Owen's poems are truly special. She breathes intelligence into all her lines. I just finished Erosion's Pull, the first time I've read a whole collection of hers. There is wry humor, smart observation, and linguistic beauty.

Her titles and breaks within lines are unmistakably hers. These disrupted fragments create a kind of jolting loveliness that I appreciated throughout. I would like to quote some of her work, but I don't think this blog platform will honor the spacing, so I'll just note: "I think I shall become formidable".