Lots of fun at the Mountain Station practice session today! Our practice set list:
Let's listen to "Birds in Perspex"! It is my favorite Robyn Hitchcock song; this is the first time we've ever played it and I think we did a pretty good job.
- Bethlehem Half-step
- Lonesome Nickel
- Talking Heads weirdness
- Meet Me in the Morning
- Birds in Perspex
- Been all around this world
- Cole Durhew
- I Can See Clearly Now/ Here Comes the Sun medley
- Why Don't We Do It in the Road jam
Monday the second
Another Infrarealist poem: this is by Guadalupe Ochoa, one of the few female Infrarealists.
The Domestication of Lightning
by Guadalupe Ochoa/ tr. Jeremy Osner
the lightning of touch announces
the downpour engendered in our embrace
fiery water of our bodies
Friday, November 29th
Here is a poem of Bolaño's from Pájaro de calor. (It is quoted in Hiram Barrios' fabulous essay on the infra poets, Visitando al infrarrealismo.)
Teach me to dance
by Roberto Bolaño/ tr. Jeremy Osner
to draw my fingers through the cottoncandy clouds
to stretch out my legs tangled up in your legs
to drive a moped across the sand
to pedal my bike down pathways of imagination
to stay silent like a statue of bronze
to stand stock-still smoking panatelas on the nth corner
the salon's blue spotlights will show my face
dripping with eyeshadow and scratches, you'll see a
of tears upon my cheeks, I'm leaving running
teach me to bind your wounds with my body
teach me to carry your heart in my hands for a little while
to open my legs like a flower opens up to the
to herself, to the evening's dew
teach me to dance, this night I want to follow your
and open the terrace doors to you
and weep in your solitude while from way up here we watch
the cars, the trucks, the highways full of cops and
teach me to open my legs and put it in me
contain your hysteria within my eyes
caress my locks and my fear with your lips
that have spoken such curses, sustained such shadow
teach me to sleep, this is the end
Ampersan: this is Orlando Guillén's "ABCD", from Muchachos desnudos.
Sunday, November 24th
(The pre-Modesto kid!)
Once son ellos, once, ferozmente poetas:
Hernán, Roberto y Montané, chilenos;
el ecuatoriano Nieto Cadena;
de la patria de Sandino: Beltrán Morales;
el peruano Enrique Verástegui,
el también peruano Jorge Pimente;
Luis Suardíaz, del primer teerritorio
libre en América: Cuba, cubanamente;
más tres meshicas que son, qué remedio,
Orlando Guillén, ¡impresente!,
Mario en el camino de Santiago
y Julián Gómez... once son, pues,
y, ¿se fijaron?, ni una sola hembrita,
con tan buenas, guapamente sabrosas que son
y que escriben como Afroditas que surgieran
no de un pantanoso taller literario
sino de un bárbaro océano de pantalones de mezclilla.
It's eleven, eleven, ferociously poets:
Hernán, Roberto and Montané from Chile;
Ecuadorian Nieto Cadena;
from the land of Sandino, Beltrán Morales;
Peruvian Enrique Verástegui,
and Peruvian too, Jorge Pimente;
Luis Suardíaz, from the first-ever free
territory of the Americas: Cuba, Cubanly;
and there's three Meshicas, what else can I say,
Orlando Guillén, absent!,
Mario on the road to Santiago,
and Julián Gómez... so they're eleven,
and notice? Not a single chick,
for all the lovely, sweet things out there
that write like Aphrodites sprung
not from some fetid literary workshop
but from a savage ocean of blue jeans.
Early poetry from Bolaño and comrade infras. I'm now reading and translating Hiram Barrios' fantastic essay on Infrarealism from Cuadrivio.net, Visitando al infrarrealismo.
Sunday, November 17th
What a fantastic prompt this is, from Breytenbach's Intimate Stranger: "Poetry is fishing for memories in time." Reckon I'll go drop a line in the murky waters...
Saturday, November 16th
The other day upon the stair
I met a boy who didn't care.
Again today he didn't care.
And by the way, his name's Pierre.
Drop me a line! or, sign my Guestbook.
Check out Ellen's writing at Patch.com.