Dan Wilcox

Barbara Ungar & Jeanne FlanaganThis was a noon-time reading held in the Massry Center Gallery at the College of St. Rose in Albany by the students in the first class of the new MFA in writing program, an advanced poetry workshop. The reading was o…

Sometimes it is difficult to write about this event. Not because I don’t know what to say, but that my notes start to disintegrate towards the end, either due to the spirit, or spirits, of the night. If I leave something out, please feel free to comment with your corrections, additions, whatever. Of course, it’s just as likely that your recollection is as faulty as mine, whatever.

Mary Panza served as our host & instigator for the night. She began by announcing that our wonderful waitress here on the last Monday of the month, Allison, who is in the military & is being deployed overseas so this was her last last Monday with us. Walt Whitman said, great poets need great audiences — but we also need great waitresses: thanks Allison, & be safe.

Tess Lecuyer began the open mic with the marvelous poem she read at the Third Thursday Poetry Night, “Wild Pumpkins.”

Sylvia Barnard‘s poem “Boston Public Garden, November 2012” was written today (!), which she followed with “Russell Square, London” written in 1975.
 

Don Levy also gave us a tour of London with his imagining of “The Queen & I,” followed by the elegy, “Twinkies.” 

I was up next, repeating “This is Not Trick or Treat” followed by a very ancient piece, “The Pool Shark,” read for tonight’s featured poet …

… who was Rebecca Schumejda, reading from her long-awaited collection Cadillac Men (NYQ Books, 2012), poems about a pool hall she & her husband once owned, & the characters who hung out there. She began with a poem about her daughter, “First Steps,” then on to an introduction to some of the characters, first Mikey Meatball (“Table of Truth”). Next was Spanish Fly in “Afterall This is a Bad Neighborhood,” “Wheeling & Dealing,” & ” Because a Smart Man Can Dignify a Lousy Moniker.” The eponymous “Bobby Balls-in-Hand” shows us what’s it like to be a loser. She ended with the pool-hall regular, Aristotle, in the metaphysical poem “Sober on a Snowy Day.” I’ve said it before & I say it again, buy this book, it’s like a short story collection, only shorter — & more fun.

Back to a continuing list of open mic poets with Shannon Shoemaker reading an old piece from 2010, filled with the cold moon & loneliness of lost love.

el presidente Thom Francis‘ poem “Stuck” was from a prompt, no less.
 

Jill Crammond, who is the prompt mama at Up the River, a Journal of Poetry, Art & Photography,  read a love poem to a fisherman, “The Last Thing This World Needs is Another Poem About Flowers,” & the villanelle, “Jude (10) Schools His Mother on Psychedelics”.

Carolee Sherwood‘s poem was from a prompt from a headline, “Salmon Swims Across Flooded Road” (to be eaten by a dog), then to another “dinner poem” (or is it romance?) “The Surprise of 2 Red Roosters.”

Kevin Peterson began by reading from his pocket notebook a short list of “things people have called me since I’ve started growing in my mustache” (of course, one doesn’t grow a mustache, one just doesn’t stop it from growing), then a poem he said wasn’t a “slam poem,” but had the heft & attitude of one, an angry put down of a sad girl on a train.

Sally Rhoades read from the 2007 High Watermark Salo[o]n journal, “The Cardinal” & the poem for her daughters, “Roosting.”

Avery returned us to the Twinkie theme with the distraught poem “Meanwhile at the Hostess Outlet,” then the descriptive piece on a flock, I mean murder, of crows.

Poetyc Vysonz ended the night with the new piece he did at the slam last week, part 2 of “Upside Down Inside Out.”

I’m sorry I couldn’t do justice to the entre poete remarks of our hostess but you just had to be there, it was fast & furious, funky & not true, or at least almost not true — you had to be there. Poets Speak Loud is at McGeary’s on Clinton Square most last Mondays (not in December), about 8PM, sponsored by AlbanyPoets.com.

Back again to this most pleasant of reading series, a wonderful way to spend a Sunday afternoon. There were about 20 folks in the Old Songs Community Center for the open mic & today’s featured poet, Phillip Levine.

First up to the open mic was a peace vigil companion from Grannies for Peace, Dorothy Richards, who read a series of haiku in the Japanese style; a first-timer we were glad to welcome. Joe Krausman began with a diversion on translating, then into a poem that uses Thanksgiving travel in a grim/humorous way, then the equally quirky “Tsunami.” Dennis Sullivan, our host for the open mic, began with a poem he wrote for “E.A.”, filled with images from the Catholic version of Xtianity, including the remarkable line, “… prepare to take one in the groin for Jesus” (!), followed by a poem on forgiveness, written during storm Sandy, “I Chose Liberty.” Obeeduid began with a long introduction, about Xtian monks in ancient Ireland creating illuminated manuscripts, to the poem “My Great Hunger,” invoking the idea of the Gaelic language (or “Irish” as it is also called) being fashioned from the leftovers of the other languages of the Tower of Babel (explains a lot about why Irish is so unpronounceable).

A word-sculpture by Alan Casline

Alan Casline referred back to Native images & stories in his poem about 2 springs that spoke as books, & read a new poem, “Before the Predicted Storm,” backwards as suggested by a poet friend (it worked!). Tom Corrado presented a word-play dialogue, with his characteristic puns, “The Nuanced Perceptions Survivor in Nine and a Half Acts.” Edie Abrams explained that she has written 2 poems in response to poems by Dennis Sullivan, that her poem to the one he just read she will read in December, then read her response to his frequent use of “hoi polloi” by declaring us/we not philosopher kings.

Arlen Westbrook was back again, this time with an anti-war poem from written during the 1960s, “All Fall Down.” I followed with a recent poem that considers my less-than-compassionate reaction to others, “Shredded Pants,” then my response to the prompt to write a scary poem, “This is Not Trick or Treat.” Mimi Moriarty read her recent poem “Learning Vietnamese,” a tender picture of music & sharing among women who share much without the common language to explain it all, a marvelous piece. Howard Kogan read what he called “2 vaguely theological poems,” the first from a workshop with Bernadette Mayer, a poem from the point of view of a firefly, then a stunning poem about looking for god, “Blue Heron.”

Rick Harrienger was also back (as “Sir Charles” so as not to be confused with “charlie”) with poems in ballad rhymes, “The Warrior’s Song” (from his experiences in Viet Nam) & a holiday theme poem, “Reflections in a Fire,” or, as he proclaimed, “so what if I make it rhyme.” Philomena Moriarty read a duo of disaster poems, “Corpses” (for the victims of Hurricane Katrina) & “Fukashima 50.”  Ann Lapinski rounded out the open mic with the more gentle “The Magnolia.”

Phillip Levine is one of those activist poets who not only writes poems but makes things happen in the poetry community, running a weekly series for a long time at the Colonie Cafe in Woodstock, the ongoing monthly Woodstock Poetry Society reading series, another monthly series in Kingston & serving as the poetry editor of the regional magazine, Chronogram. He read from a wide-spectrum of his poems, including 2 influenced by the work of James Joyce, “Soon” (inspired by Ulysses) & “Hooked” (in the style of Finnegan’s Wake), also “Small Things” from a recent profile in Ulster magazine. Sometimes his intros became long diversions that filled up his time & got in the way of the poems, but he managed to squeeze in a series of pieces on writing, “The Clown at the Chalkboard,” “Poet on Point” & the related “A Riderless Horse.” His poem “Colors” was for a woman who at the time was threatening suicide. He ended with his familiar card-trick/aphoristic poems, short pieces written on playing cards, shuffled & chosen at random.

This series continues on the 4th Sunday of each month at 3PM at the Old Songs Community Center up in Voorhessville, NY, a modest donation — & a trip after up the road to Smith’s Tavern for pizza or sandwiches & beer, or whatever. How else do you want to spend your Sunday afternoon?

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