I've only been published in one journal. My poems have been rejected by Poetry and by the Omnidawn Press poetry competition. This shouldn't make me feel like less of a poet, but it does. I've read the Language poets, studied with Charles Bernstein, I know all about "official verse culture" and it's trappings, and yet I can't help feeling like a
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Keep laying it down, line by line, breath after breath.
When I was "on the scene" in the 90's, I hit a shitload ton of open mikes--eventually, I wound up getting asked and paid to do readings in all sorts of places, asked to submit stuff to anthologies and journals, etc.. The longer I've stayed away, the less I've gotten those requests--but it wasn't super hard, really--as far as I know, you just have to keep writing and keep putting yourself out there.
That said, I'm a street poet, kinda in that Beat-influenced "griot" style--I never gave too much of a fucking damn about academia, or any sort of attention from the mainstream. Never thought my work would shift the culture in any way, it was just more about catching moving thoughts, getting a moment or a space in my head and heart down on the page with some amount of integrity, and with as much craft as I could summon. For me, it was more about expression and catharsis, and straining towards basic human sanity...
Doubt is eternal in our world.
So is hunger, disappointment and frustration--and that's ok, really.
Just keep kicking at that wall, my friend.
Keep kicking.
I have faith in you. :-)
L.
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It's a matter of talking with and physically hanging with folks...I guess that means "networking", but for me, it was really just being hooked in with people I trust, and folks I learned from. Things flowed from that...the initial thing was just being seen around. I suppose since I was moving in AAWW (Asian American Writer's Workshop) circles, that wsn't too hard for me. The Nuyorican was also a place I used to drink at...it was a neighborhood bar for me, in many ways. I'd kick in a few bucks at the door to help with the rent, and drink and hang out, taking in the performers for the evening. When I was really broke, I'd sneak in a pint of something, and hang out upstairs, only getting beers as chasers downstairs every so often...but that's how I did it, I guess.
So, yeah--Philly. Hrm...
Dude, why don't ya set something off over there?
Create your own crew of crazies?
There must be someone you can vibe with there!
If you can set something in motion--folks WILL notice.
It's really only a matter of time...
I like your "spam haiku", BTW--and hey, I'd take a class you were teaching!
(as Blogger will not let me leave a comment over there)
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This Conrad guy, I agree--he sounds like a gimmicky fuckin' twerp.
So don't hang with his closest crew.
That said--if you can, *poach* people from other crews you can kinda like and/or get along with for your own projects--you can pick and choose folks after all.
Pick folks with potential, then: as subtly as you can--*guide their aesthetic*.
Go run a writers' workshop--shit, what do you think happens at some of these Loisaida gatherings, dude? You find an active aesthetic that folks are being urged to champion, at each and every one of these things--so, for yourself, invite folks that *you* can *work with* (and ON), not losers that write about bullshit in a shitty fuckin' manner. If some lame dude is obsessed with smearing his own sploodge all over himself, and writes bad, cheesy couplets about sticking Crayolas inside his yowling cat in heat--that's not the doggerel scribbler for you, my friend!
In short, you wanna teach poetics from your POV? Then, do it this way! It won't be academia, but you might be more free to try wilder shit because it's not in that setting, you dig?
See where it takes you. I guarantee it WILL be a learning experience! :-D
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