John Murillo featured at From the Fishouse

John Murillo
Originally uploaded by mosaicbooks

John Murillo is the author of the collection, Up Jump the Boogie (Cypher Books, 2010). A graduate of New York University's MFA program in creative writing, he has received fellowships from the New York Times, Cave Canem, the Fine Arts Work Center in Provincetown, and the Wisconsin Institute for Creative Writing, among others. He is a founding member of the collective, The Symphony.

You can read/hear Murillo's poems at From the Fishouse, an online resource dedicated to promoting the oral traditions of poetry.

• The Corner
• Hustle
• Enter the Dragon
• 1989
• Practicing Fade-Aways
• Trouble Man
• Song
• John Murillo Q&A on reading his poems aloud, and some advice
• John Murillo Q&A on the pleasure of writing

Letras Latinas at Cave Canem: An E-Conversation

On Sunday June 20, 2010, Brenda Cárdenas and I arrived at Pittsburgh airport, separately, and boarded shuttles that took us to the University of Pittsburgh at Greensburg. In each case, we got to share the journey with Cave Canem fellows (I enjoyed, for example, getting acquainted and conversing with third year fellow Kelly Harris, who is now based in New Orleans.) What follows is a conversation that Brenda and I had over e-mail about our time among the Cave Canem family. Most of this dialogue took place before the CantoMundo retreat—an initiative that took as its inspiration Cave Canem and whose co-founder, Toi Derricotte, graced the inaugural CantoMundo retreat with her presence and spirit, sharing with us her wisdom and words.

Francisco Aragón

July 14, 2010

**

FA:

Thank you for agreeing to take part in this e-conversation as a way to reflect and de-brief ourselves on what I think was a special experience for us both: being week-long guests at the Cave Canem retreat. I'll start things off with a brief comment and then a related question.  As I think you will agree, that first night at Cave Canem was quite moving: I'm talking about the time we spent in the opening circle listening to people tell the story of what brought them to Cave Canem. It felt, that Circle did, almost like a sacred space and an ideal way to kick off the week. Could you share what your particular impressions were. And could you also paraphrase what you shared with the Cave Canem fellows that was related to your early education as a poet.

BC:

Yes, I too found the opening circle at the Cave Canem retreat inspiring because it was so real, so down to earth. The fellows were exuberant even when what they needed to express something difficult or sorrowful because they had dug deeply in order to speak honestly and passionately about what it means to be a poet—and a Black poet—in this historical moment. I thought it was quite insightful on Toi Derricotte’s part to ask fellows and teachers alike to talk about who they really were as poets, what had brought them to CC, and what they hoped to gain from the CC retreat, minus their book titles, awards, degrees, teaching positions, etc. And I was struck by the general sense of how isolated poets of color still feel in the U.S. despite all of the “multiculturalism” we’ve been hearing about for the past 30 years or so. In her interview with Elizabeth Hoover of Sampsonia Way magazine, Derricotte reminds us that we are not a post-racial society. Despite the success of many fine Black writers, individuals often still find themselves to be the only Black poet in a creative writing graduate course (or even program); at a writer’s workshop, conference, or retreat; as a faculty member of a writing program; etc. And being that one Black poet often is accompanied by others’ expectations born of stereotypes and narrow ideas/essentialisms surrounding the literature written by people of color. I was also quite moved by the stories shared by fellows with multi-ethnic heritages—the tugs of war between the different cultures that reside within them, the exclusions and pressures to deny major parts of who they are. This resonated for me, as I imagine it might with many Latina/o poets. And, of course, I have to note how the stories and statements that the fellows shared always came back to the writing—how hard they work at it, how much they eat and breathe it, the challenges they knew they’d meet in the week to follow and how excited they were to rise to them, the directions in which they wanted to take their work, etc. It was obvious to me from the start that this would not be just a “feel good,” esteem building set of workshops, but rather a rigorous one with very high standards, a supportive but challenging experience for participants.

When it was my turn to speak, I remember first thanking the founders, Toi Derricotte and Cornelius Eady, and the fellows for allowing me to be present at the retreat as a visiting poet. I had known before boarding the plane to Pittsburgh that an amazing honor had been bestowed upon me, but the opening circle demonstrated even more clearly that it would probably be one of the greatest honors of my writing life. Cave Canem defines itself as a home for black writers; it’s a safe space in which one does not have to be on guard all the time (except for making sure s/he is producing the finest poetry s/he can muster) and also one in which s/he will get honest, thoughtful feedback on her/his work. For the co-founders, fellows, and staff to invite you and me to be present, observe, and participate in parts of this retreat was incredibly generous (and, to some degree, risky) on their part. I wanted to make sure that they all knew I understood that. I explained that I hoped and planned to learn from the fellows and teachers in residence via attending and listening actively at all of the readings and events and by conversing with fellows. I also planned to try to push my own poetry into new (for me) terrain. Finally, I spoke about the fact that when I was in high school in the late 70’s (I’m 48 years old), there were no Latina/o poets at all in the curriculum or textbooks. They weren’t even in my undergraduate curriculum. I had to find them on my own. Yet, in my high school literature classes and anthologies, Langston Hughes, Gwendolyn Brooks, and Loraine Hansberry were present, and they had taught me how to sing. They inspired me to write and seemed to give me permission to do so. Fellows who had spoken before me had mentioned that they felt/sensed Lucille Clifton’s presence at the retreat, as the late Clifton had been an advocate of Cave Canem and often attended the retreat as a guest poet. I said that I imagined Hughes, Brooks and Hansberry were present as well.  What a first evening!

FA:

Your response prompted me to go back and re-read Toi's interview for Sampsonia Way (The first time I read it was before the retreat.) In re-reading it, I couldn't help but remember a moment during the week that particularly struck me. It was either Monday or Tuesday morning at the optional morning seminar for the fellows (and given by fellows), which we were welcome to attend. It was the one on shaping a first book manuscript, and it was being led by Metta Sama. A couple of things: she brought a stack of "first books" and in the pile were a number of books I immediately recognized. They included the first books by Blas Falconer, Helena Mesa, and Aracelis Girmay. In fact, part of the seminar involved looking at the table of contents of Teeth (Araceli's book) and discussing the first two pieces in the volume. I remember that it was a very lively and stimulating discussion, and everyone in the room was freely contributing their thoughts on the ins and outs of organizing a manuscript, and the heart of the discussion had to do with the heart of the matter: the poems, the poetry. It was a perfectly normal discussion one would expect for a seminar on this topic. I don't recall any particular discussion of race or ethnicity. And then it struck me as I gazed around the room—there were maybe twenty people present—excepting me, everyone in that room was black. It was a small, epiphany-like moment for me. Even if I include my experience at Macondo, which is mostly but not exclusively Latino/a, I don't think I'd ever had that experience: being in a poetry setting—any setting of instruction really—where every single person around the table or in the room was non-white. Did you have any similar moments during your time spent among the fellows (and faculty for that matter, since it was so nice spending time with them as well). Another way of phrasing this might be: could you share any particular moment or moments from your week that struck a particular chord with you?

BC:

I wasn't at Metta's seminar (wish I had been), but it sounds like it was as valuable as all of the events at Cave Canem. There wasn't one event I attended all week that wasn't super high caliber. I like how you noted that the fellows were having a stimulating discussion regarding the ins and outs of organizing a manuscript with no particular discussion of race and ethnicity. This is important because the poetry/the art itself and the choices one makes as a poet were primary at CC. Certainly, sometimes there was crossover with themes/issues regarding race, ethnicity, culture, but certainly not always and not as the primary focus. That's true when you put a bunch of white poets together in a room, and it's true when you put a bunch of brown or black or red poets together too. We love language, we spend many hours reading, we dwell for long periods of time on a single line when we write.

You ask if I had any of those epiphany moments or moments that struck a particular chord with me, and there were so many that I hesitated answering the question for a spell because it's so difficult to choose only one. So I haven't. I've chosen a few. First, in the aftermath of the retreat, I noted something that I imagine has happened to everyone, probably more than once, in her life. That is the way we are drawn to certain kinds of personalities no matter how the larger group is constituted and despite the fact that we know no one in the group at the beginning. Somehow those we are drawn to almost feel like old friends by the end of a first conversation, and we find ourselves sharing deeply with them by the end of a week. I had that happen with certain fellows. Although I really liked and learned from everyone, I felt especially connected to certain people as though they had been cousins or close friends in another lifetime. I've experienced this before, and I was glad that I experienced it at CC too.

Also the couple of times I sat with Ed Roberson at dinner were pretty amazing, as he is such a brilliant poet and wise person whose wisdom has evolved or deepened, I think, in part from his world travels and scientific studies. He has a solitude about him that perhaps only comes from both living fully in the world and observing it carefully in all of its intricacies.

One of the more significant exchanges I had with one of the fellows was the conversation at lunch one day for which both Ed and you were present. I'm speaking of the day that Nandi, who had attended bilingual schools in the Detroit area during her K-12 years, narrated her story about watching Mexican wrestling for the first time in a public square in Guadalajara during the three years she lived and taught in Mexico. First of all, she told the story with such vigor and wit that she practically had all of us falling out of our seats with laughter. Secondly, it was obvious from the story that although Nandi is African American, raised by activist parents (connected to the Black Power Movement), and not Chicana or Mexicana, she had developed a deep appreciation and love for the culture, which had been born of her submersion experience. When Nandi finished the story, I mentioned that I was looking forward to someday seeing the poems or stories that she’d write from her experience in Mexico. She replied that she had always wanted to write about that part of her life and to use Spanish in her poetry, but that she hadn’t (she never felt she could) due to her concerns about appropriating another people’s culture, as there are such dangers in that. I agreed that appropriation can be very problematic and slippery but expressed that I felt that the Spanish language was hers—she had mastered it and spoken it for so long, she was fluent—and that when she told us her story about Mexican wrestling, she had positioned herself (the narrator) with great care and self awareness. She was speaking for no one but herself. Perhaps writing successfully about one's experiences with people of a different culture or ethnicity works when one is very mindful of one’s approach and positioning (and even questions or critiques that positioning), when one writes with deep respect and care and when one does her research thoroughly, which includes primary research or experience in the culture. Others around the table concurred. Nandi seemed truly touched by our remarks and later that night at the fellows' poetry reading, she delivered two poems. The second one had been written in a mix of English and Spanish, and it concerned issues of poverty and, perhaps, orphanage in Mexico. It was a new poem—lyrical and tender. It was respectful and beautiful and painful due in part to Nandi's restraint, economy of language, and diction. It was dedicated to you, Francisco, and to me. It was one of the most cherished gifts I've ever received—something I'll always carry with me.

Another super significant moment for me was hearing Avery Young perform his poem regarding the New Orleans flood. There's no way to describe that performance—the way he brought the poem up through the Earth's deepest veins into his toes and up his torso, through his throat and off his tongue. There's no way to describe the audience's collective hard swallow and hush. There's no way to begin to describe what he does with the word "Help." All I can say was that I realized as he finished performing that I had witnessed what García Lorca calls Duende in that performance—puro duende. I was stunned.

What were your feelings or reactions to these moments, as you were present too?

FA:

I have to say that I have very little to add to your depiction of these particular moments except to echo my deep sense of gratitude, both for being allowed to be present in the first place, and for how deeply touched I was. I guess Nandi’s story about her time in Mexico touched me in a particular way because one of the things Letras Latinas is striving to do in some of its programming is create situations where dialogue and mutual appreciation of our two literary communities (Latino and African American) can be enhanced. In that sense, Nandi’s story was a particularly poignant gift.

As I think about how this e-conversation of ours has unfolded, I am preparing to depart Albuquerque, NM after experiencing the inaugural CantoMundo retreat. It feels as if my experience of CantoMundo as the other side of this coin, or the mirror of our experience of Cave Canem, in terms of fellowship and community-building.....all around the act of making poems. And you'll be happy to know that just as we were guests a few weeks ago in Greensburg, our guest this past weekend in Albuquerque was Toi Derricotte. She delivered wonderful keynote remarks on Friday morning. Based on the comments I have heard from other CantoMundistas, her presence was definitely one of the highlights of the retreat—in the same way (from my perspective and from what I was able to observe and hear) that your presence was a highlight for a number of Cave Canem fellows. Because the CC group numbered more than 50, it’s not surprising that we grew better acquainted with some fellows more than others. I have gotten a few nice Facebook messages from Robin in these last few days. And Ian Williams' name came up here in New Mexico, as well: J. Michael Martinez enjoyed interacting with him in Vermont at a residency there a short while ago.

Are there any other closing remarks you’d like to make to wind down this e-conversation?

BC:

I’m glad you mentioned Robin, as she is one of those people who feels like a long, lost cousin, plus what a talented poet she is!

I’ll close by saying that it was also such an honor for me to read with Cornelius Eady, Toi Dericotte and Ed Roberson, as well as to do the craft talk with Sapphire. These are all poets/writers I've read and admired over the years, so I was quite nervous when it came to sharing stages with them, but everyone was so supportive that, of course, these ended up being enriching and rich exchanges too. After the first few minutes of the talk with Sapphire, we eased into natural conversation, made easier by fellow and moderator Nicole Sealy's thoughtful and challenging questions regarding the many difficult choices we make in the writing of any poem. Sapphire, Nicole, the other fellows who posed questions, and I were able to flesh out some of the ideas and topics of conversation about writing that had sprung up during the week too, so it was great that the craft talk was scheduled near the week’s end.

One more thing: It seems that Cornelius, Toi, Allison (the Executive Director), and Sarah Micklem, (Cornelius’ wife who has been actively involved from CC’s inception) have not only been incredible inspirations as poets/writers, but also as community/cultural workers and activists. I was quite impressed by the number of CC fellows who were or had at some point in their lives been deeply engaged in vital community arts work/projects. This is one of the many things that I feel sets the CC retreat/residency apart from others around the country. Where else do you end up in a group of 50 poets and find so many who have participated so significantly as community/cultural workers? In this way it is fitting that one of the faculty readings took place at Sampsonia Way in Pittsburgh—home to City of Asylum residencies—definitely one of the most significant community projects I’ve ever witnessed. We probably need to have an e-mail exchange about that residency too!

I’m so glad to hear that Canto Mundo struck you as having some similar strengths as those we’ve mentioned about CC. I wanted to apply to attend Canto Mundo but couldn’t do three residencies in one summer due to other obligations. Nonetheless, I was rooting for it to be just such an environment as you describe.

Finally, I just want anyone associated with Cave Canem who may read this to know how appreciative I am of this experience and how much I valued my time with each and every fellow, faculty member, and staff member. I also want to thank you, Francisco, for linking me to CC and for sharing so many of your own insights, kindnesses, and even a few poems while we were at CC. I felt that the fellows really valued your experience as both poet and arts administrator—one who is always cultivating amazing projects and collaborations.

FA:

I’m really glad you brought up your craft talk with Sapphire. While I would concur that your reading on Monday night with Cornelius, Toi, and Ed was, by definition, a highlight of our week in Greensburg, what transpired in that room while you and Sapphire conversed towards the week’s end was the icing on the cake. I don’t know if you knew this, but it was after that craft talk that you sold the rest of your books. Boomerang was purchased 40 times when it was all said and done. If there was ever a measuring stick to how you were received at Cave Canem, that would be it, I think.

I’m really looking forward to your and Paul Martinez Pompa’s reading in Washington DC on September 16th in collaboration with the American Poetry Museum, where you’ll be reading with R. Dwane Betts and Inés P. Rivera Prosdocimi; and also the one in Bethesda the next day with Teri Cross Davis and Gregory Pardlo in collaboration with The Writers Center.

The New York Times on Sáenz's The Book of What Remains

THE BOOK OF WHAT REMAINS
By Benjamin Alire Sáenz
123 pages; Copper Canyon Press

The New York Times recently ran a feature on small press poetry.  One of the new titles highlighted is The Book of What Remains by Benjamin Alire Sáenz. The Times says: "It’s clear that (Sáenz) prefers the desert of mesquite, cactus and arroyos to dry and unquestioned cultural pieties. Referring to “Hamlet,” he writes, 'Do you know how many literary critics love that play more than they love people?'"

The complete article can be found at the NY Times: In Media Universe, Poetry’s Small Planet.

Shout out to the Poets & Writers twitter feed for the link to the story.

Interview: Rich Villar and the Nuyorican Poets Cafe

Rich Villar features at Friday Night Slam
at the Nuyorican Poets Cafe

The Nuyorican Poets Cafe, the house Miguel Algarín, Mikey Piñero and Pedro Pietri built, is New York's most iconic poetry venue. Punto. Ask the average New Yorker where they can find poetry and the answer is always the same: The Nuyo.

If anyone doubts that statement, all they need to do is look at the line that forms every Wednesday for the Open Slam. A solid hour before the show starts, the line starts to form with poets looking for a shot to read at this open slam and poet aficionados coming through to see what the Wednesday fuss is all about. Any Nuyo veteran will let you know, winning the Open Wednesday Slam is New York Slam Poetry's golden ticket—an invite to slam on Friday night.

And folks who are surprised at the long lines for the Wednesday Slam are left dumbfounded at the wait to get into the Friday slam. Rain or shine, in sweltering July humidity or freezing December chill, you can always spot folks lining up hours in advance of the Friday Night Slam to witness the poetic battleground that has spawned such luminaries as Edwin Torres, Tracie Morris, Regie Cabico, Sarah Jones, Willie Perdomo, Manny Xavier, Mayda del Vallle and Saul Williams, to name a few.

The Friday Slam is followed by the Open Room, an open mic that starts at 1:00am and can go on for hours. Legend has it Pietri would love to stop by at two in the morning and test out new material. To this day man poets drop by at this late night poetry stop just so they can say, "I've read a poem at the Nuyo."

The highest of all these accolades is to be invited by Slam Curator Mahogany Browne to feature on a Friday Night in front a standing room only crowd hungry for Nuyorican poetry. And your feature for this Friday Night? None other than Acentos Foundation director Rich Villar.

For a better sense of Nuyo history and what's going down now at the Cafe, I ask Rich a couple of questions for Letras Latinas:

Oscar Bermeo: With no advertising at all, the Friday Night Slam at the Nuyorican is consistently sold out 52 weeks a year. What do you think is the allure?

Rich Villar: Allure is a good word. I think people are attracted to what is considered outlaw, outsider, rulebreaking and such, though what it means to be “outlaw” has certainly evolved over the years. In the 90´s, when the hood was the number one heroin market on the planet, you really had to NEED to participate in something artistic for yourself and the people who live(d) there. Then when the Piñero movie hit, folks kinda wanted a piece of this bohemian oasis for themselves. Then Def Poetry hit, and suddenly folks wanted to see some of these poets they’d seen on TV up close, maybe even get to HBO themselves. Nowadays, it’s maybe not as dangerous and outsider…certainly not with a designer coffee house down the block…but it remains a mostly young and multicultural mix of folks wanting an experience that isn’t the typical Friday night lounge scene laced with banal conversation. It’s new. The slam is always new to somebody. And when it’s new in the mind, it’s usually the Nuyorican they step to first.

Palabra Pura Special Event with Maria Luisa Arroyo & Roger Bonair-Agard

With this event, the Guild Complex will take a step toward enhancing the dialogue and awareness of work coming out of the Latino and African American poetry communities. Palabra Pura, Chicago’s monthly bi-lingual reading series, initiates Palabra Pura Special Events by inviting African American poets to share its stage.

Palabra Pura Special Events are the brainchild of Francisco Aragón, poet and Director of Letras Latinas at the Institute for Latino Studies at Notre Dame, and Quraysh Ali Lansana, poet and Director of the Gwendolyn Brooks Center for Black Literature & Creative Writing at Chicago State University. The vision is to have writers from these two communities come together to share their work and respond to each other’s work.

The first Palabra Pura Special Event will be Wednesday, July 21, with acclaimed Puerto Rican native and poet María Luisa Arroyo reading alongside noted Trinidadian native and poet Roger Bonair-Agard. This is the first time a non-Latino poet will be featured on the Palabra Pura stage. After the reading there will be a moderated conversation and audience Q&A.

A short Open Mic will begin the evening.

Palabra Pura Special Event with Maria Luisa Arroyo & Roger Bonair-Agard
Date: Wednesday, July 21, 2010
Time: Reading begins at 7:30 p.m.
Cost: Admission is free
Location: Décima Musa, 1901 S. Loomis, Chicago

Born in Puerto Rico, bi-lingual poet and translator Maria Luisa Arroyo won a 2004 Massachusetts Cultural Council poetry grant. Her collection of poetry, Gathering Words: Recogiendo Palabras was published in 2008. A chapbook, Touching and Naming the Roots of this Tree, was published in 2007. Maria Luisa Arroyo writes for The Springfield Institute, blogs at Maria Luisa Arroyo's Blog, leads writing workshops, teaches GED courses.

Roger Bonair-Agard is a native of Trinidad and Tobago, a Cave Canem fellow and co-author of Burning Down the House. He is a two-time National Slam Champion and is co-founder of The louderARTS Project. Roger's work has been widely anthologized and commissioned and he has appeared on HBO's Def Poetry Jam and the MacNeil-Lehrer NewsHour. His publications include Tarnish and Masquerade published in 2000.

Interview: J. Michael Martinez speaks with Pluma Fronteriza

J. Michael Martinez reads from Heredities
Originally uploaded by OBermeo

Profile and interview with recent Whitman Prize winner J. Michael Martinez is live at the Pluma Fronteriza blog. Here's an excerpt:

Pluma Fronteriza: Can you summarize your Heredities for readers who are not familiar with your work?

When I write, oftentimes, the work knows more of what it wants than me. It’s a consciousness more conscious than my own. I’ve learned to relinquish my intentions for the poetry to the poem.

As in meditation, where one empties the mind to move into a greater space of silence, so poetry moves my life to myself, speaking an unspoken world into language. In surrendering control, I learn from what has been written.

That said, I’m not sure if I can summarize Heredities.

I can say, when writing the poems that now comprise Heredities, I was in my mid to late twenties and coming to terms with what it meant for me to be Chicano in the US, responding to cliché conceptions and articulations of Latinidad.

Complete interview is here.

Corazón Bilingüe July 2010 Podcasts

Corazón Bilingüe is a new online poetry journal with plans to publish four times a year with featured guest editors for each edition.

Currently, Corazón Bilingüe is engaging in podcast discussions with various writers about language, culture and the art of literary creation. The July 2010 podcasts includes conversations with Xavier Garza, Celeste Guzman Mendoza and Arturo Saldaña.

For a complete directory of podcasts and more information on upcoming projects, you can visit them on the web at www.corazonbilingue.com.

In Praise of Visual and Oral Documenation

The web, particularly on Facebook, has been awash with visual documentation of the recent inaugural edition of CantoMundo. The most recent addition to all of this rich material are nicely edited clips of the CantoMundo Fellows Reading, which took place on the evening of July 9. Readers were asked to keep their presentations to four minutes or less. You can access these clips....HERE.

Special thanks to CantoMundo fellow, Oscar Bermeo, for doing this vital work.

Courtesy of Deborah Parédez: Founding Member

Aracelis Girmay Wins Isabella Gardner Poetry Award

Aracelis Girmay—BOA Poet.
Winner of the Isabella Gardner Award.
Originally uploaded by OBermeo

The BOA Editions Blog reports that Aracelis Girmay has been awarded the Isabella Gardner Poetry Award for her new collection, Kingdom Animalia. Her book will be published by BOA Editions in fall 2011. This award is given biennially to a poet with a new book of exceptional merit. Manuscripts are solicited and there is no formal submission process for this award.

Scenes from CantoMundo 2010

Photos can be found at Flickr: CantoMundo 2010

foto-poema

JOSÉ SÁMANO | Johanesburgo

El 11 de julio de 2010 es ya un día histórico para el deporte nacional. España ha ganado su primer Mundial de fútbol en una final agónica, con oportunidades para ambos equipos y jugada con dureza por Holanda. A cuatro minutos del fin de la prórroga un gol de Iniesta hizo el sueño realidad.

CantoMundo 2010

back row (l to r):  celeste, norma, oscar, emmy, barbara, diego luivette, eduardo, pablo

front row (l to r): amalia, liliana, carmen, francisco, lauro, cynthia, sheryl, j. michael, deborah, gloria

seated (l to r): martín, demetria, toi

Read about it HERE.

In the wake of PLOTUS-gate (2)

Since the election of President Barak Obama there has been a lot of talk that we are in a “post-racial age.” Why do you think Cave Canem is still relevant?

Because we are not post-racial. This year at the Associated Writers Program’s conference almost no white people came to the Cave Canem panel. Things have changed in the sense that a lot of poets of color have been published and are teaching at great schools, but you can’t say that American literature represents in an integrated way the diverse voices of the American people. There are still these separations that have to do with class and money and power and race and all those things.

from  “We Are Not Post-racial:” An Interview with Toi Derricotte

conducted by Elizabeth Hoover for Sampsonia Way

In the wake of PLOTUS-gate

A few poets respond to David Biespiel's essay "This Land is Our Land" in the pages of POETRY. Some excerpts:

Listing poets who do what he considers public work, Biespiel asks, "Why aren't there more?" How many does he want? Do Juan Felipe Herrera's decades of work in community-based theater count? What about teaching in prisons, as Herrera, Steve Healey, Gabriel Gudding, Mairéad Byrne, and dozens other poets have done? [...]

If such works are public involvement, then American poetry has plenty of public involvement, though there could always be more. And if they are not---if public involvement has to take place in a way wholly divorced from the writing of poems---then it is far from clear that poets, as poets, have any special powers to bring [...]

Stephen Burt
Belmont, Massachusetts

Read Burt's entire letter HERE.

*

I'm all for it, in theory, having all the romantic fantasies of a leftist born too late for the grand narrative. But that stuff's not available in conservative, corporate-run America, and you just can't get people excited about that sort of thing if you're all about change from the middle of the road.

Few of us are given the opportunity to refuse a National Medal of Arts like Adrienne Rich, or use a poet laureateship for political purposes. Fewer still are given the opportunity Dana Gioia had under the Bush Administration.

Daisy Fried
Philadelphia, Pennsylvania

Read Fried's entire letter HERE.

*

I'm absolutely interested in poets who are doing exactly what Biespel proposes. Elizabeth Alexander's role as inaugural poet was a terrific occasion to ask what a poet in that position should be/do. Shouldn't she have been considered in Biespiel's essay? Or Luis Rodriguez: Throughout his long career he's played key roles in community organizations and support groups for youths, gang members, poets, and many others. How is he not a model for the very poet Biespiel calls for?

If we are going to discuss democracy and poetry, let's really be democratic.

Terrance Hayes
Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania

Read Hayes' entire letter HERE.

*

David Biespiel responds:

[...] And while I am glad to learn of other poets who act politically, I feel despair for those who believe that, since I didn't name every breathing example, my argument is moot.

Read Biespiel's entire response HERE.


*

HERE is the essay that prompted this discussion.

And here is what I wrote in response to "This Land is Our Land":

Dear Editor:

We’ve heard this before. Every now and then, someone (is it my imagination, or is it usually a white male?) remarks about how American poets are not held in the same regard (or as involved in their country's civic life) as they are in other countries: usually, writers from the former Soviet bloc are invoked, or from Latin America; in those places poets can often become principal players in their nation’s national discourse---sometimes suffering imprisonment as a result, or worse.

One of the beliefs I became more adamant about during my time in Spain the longer I lived there (ten years) is that it’s rarely helpful to generalize about a people. In a country as large and diverse and free as the United States an exercise of the sort Mr. Biespiel engages in is fairly innocuous.

But here is what I came away with after reading, and re-reading “This Land is Our Land.” On the one hand Mr. Biespiel complains about how American poetry has been balkanized, become insular and inward-looking. Yet one reads the names of the poets he suggests we might emulate, and one can’t help but note how homogenous a group it is. With the exception of two, the only people he deigns to mention are white. And one of those two he refers to as “hairbrained” in commenting on this poet’s “cockamamie nonsense.” Well, okay, something the poet said was “hairbrained.”

And why does he name Amiri Baraka as one of his role models? Because he “was serving in a public role as poet laureate.” That’s right: one of the ways American poets can aspire to make a difference in our nation’s public discourse and engagement with democracy is to be appointed a poet laureate. Thus, among his “nifty dozen:” Robert Pinsky and Charles Simic. And if you don’t have the good fortune to be a laureate, get yourself appointed the Chairman of the National Endowment for the Arts (Dana Gioia) or land the Presidency of the Guggenheim Foundation (Edward Hirsch), or get awarded (so you can decline it) the National Medal of Arts (Adrienne Rich). Get the picture?

Mr. Biespiel writes, early in his piece: “I would further make a distinction between activism (my emphasis) and volunteerism (my emphasis), which are not my subjects here, and civic discourse and democratic engagement, which are.” How convenient to exclude those pesky activists. One might ask: Which demographic (and its poets), typically, has engaged in, and continues to engage in (Arizona) activism? I think we know the answer to that question by noting which segments of America are absent in Mr. Biespiel’s lily lament.

Francisco Aragón

Arlington, Virginia

Willie Perdomo reads new work at VONA

For more information on Willie Perdomo, please visit: www.willieperdomo.com.

For more information on the VONA Voices Workshop for Writers of Color, please visit www.voicesatvona.org.

Letras Latinas at Cave Canem (3)

On the first night, folks sit around "The Circle" and everyone (Fellows,

Faculty and Guests alike) takes a few minutes to answer the question:

Why are you here? It's quite a moving experience.

The shared daily meals are a highlight of the CC experience

Brenda Cárdenas reads first on Monday night

2010 Letras Latinas Guest Poet

Ed Roberson, Cornelius Eady, Toi Derricote, Brenda Cárdenas

The Monday Night readers and Introducers.

Left to Right: Ed Roberson, Stephanie Pruitt, Cornelius Eady,

Toi Derricotte, Ian Williams, Francisco Aragón,

Brenda Cárdenas, Rachel Eliza Griffiths

Brenda Cárdenas and Claudia Rankine converse

Brenda Cárdenas, mahogany L. browne, Sapphire

Brenda signing books after her moderated conversation

with Sapphire on Friday morning

Francisco Aragón and Sapphire

preparing for the group picture

Graduation of 3rd year Fellows.

Another very moving moment.