For eight seasons Albuquerque poet Mitch Rayes outfitted jungle trips to remote rivers and ruins in the southern Mexican state of Chiapas. He first arrived there in 1979 and for almost two decades spent a large portion of his time in an area of Chiapas inhabited by a small group of indigenous Maya known as the Lacandones. His most recent poems are based on reminiscences of those years.
Do your neighbors have tentacles for arms? I mean real tentacles? Maybe you should read this. I first heard Gary Jackson at the Michael Datcher event. What a wonderful night that was! And this matter-of-fact treatment of the totally grotesque has all the dark irony of a reporter covering a nightmare.
This short and playful piece is not for the prudish. But warm weather is the time for swimming and watching the bare-skinned beautiful people. Here in Albuquerque there is no swimming except for city pools. And there are no beaches since Tingley Beach was closed to swimming decades ago. Still we can imagine...or smile as we remember...another time, another town, another full moon.
Those weekly demonstrations in Nob Hill elicit all kinds of reactions: some people honk and most just keep on driving. A few join in...a few join the counter-demonstration. Very few join both.
The Boom begs to be heard aloud: it is so crammed with fastball images and tricky rhythms. Well, I haven't got a video of The Boom, but I am embedding a video of Goodwin's What Is They Feedin' Our Kids as a kind of introduction to the poet's style. You will absolutely LOVE the video. And it gives you a starting point for the breakbeat poetics of The Boom.…