I Love Discursing With Women

I also notice I tend to fare better when Montevidayo is in its populated by women stages--the blog is multiauthor and of course the roster for the blogcommentbox has regulars but of course some regulars go on hiatuses)--and I don't know if this is solely a quirk of mine or if--as some of me suspects--smart women are inevitably gonna make for the best discursive atmosphere: I guess I'm working from the assumption that (and again this is from my own experience and that sample is too small for macro-conclusions) it seems (can seem and the word assumption seam?) women may be less likely to display an aura of dismissiveness--or at-least the Montevidayo women.  And this ain't to say I've never seen women dismiss at this site, but even the dismisiveness tends towards engagement.

Note: although I erased it, initially I posited this may link to overall trends in female socialization; and this does not make me comfortable as I lean towards thinking much female socialization is awful/damaging.

Note: I don't mean to imply I am pro conversations with women because of some general or innate docility: no-no-no, not-at-all!  It's precisely for the fact of multifoliate arguing that I often find my arguments--or conversations or discursive xchanges or whathaveyou--so delightful and impressive.  For those who want names, Danielle Pafunda and Ariel Greenburg and Kate Zambreno and Kate Durbin (apologies if I've botched spellings) come to mind.

Ugh, I need to wean myself off Montevidayo--the blog not the city.  I keep non meaning to do this and then keep on failing.  And this makes sense in many ways; although it's by leaps and bounds more stressful to participate in than, for example, The French Exit or Nothing To Say and Saying It, it's also full of lovely sparks and has been great for the poetry writing me: I could be wrong--influence can be difficult to pin down--but I believe that many poems of my past year would not have been written were it not for my Montevidayo exposure.  I assume this is why I continually fail to cut the cord: the cord stresses but also feeds much nutrition.

A Lovely Surprise

I searched me on the internet and found this amazingly kind response to some poems of mine (here's the link: 21stcenturypoetrybychris.blogspot.com);
Tuesday, March 16, 2010


What to do now?

My favorite artist in FENCE was Adam Strauss and I looked up his work. Unfortunately, FENCE is his second publishing and I could not find much about the author. I found this bio on Softblow.com: " Adam Strauss lives in las Vegas, Nevada. He has poems out

in the current Drunken Boat, as well as forthcoming in Fence. "


I also read a few of the poems that were on this web page and this was my favorite:

Lust


Blood thinks.

Streams sings.

Rubies' regal reddenings.



Logicians think.

Singers sing.

Painters paint ravishing reddenings.



Glasses clink in an act of relief.

A philosopher falls in love with a painter's way with paint.

Blood sauce more warming than sable regals.



Writing heightens sensation presently.

We shouldn't necessarily all be writing.

It is fun doing a bad job it’s good to be doing fun.



Running a sentence on extends its sense or I'm wrong.

It is a big deal but not now.

Something else is present I'll love it later.



I've long been doing in love so I’m interested in doing lust.

I want lust to wake up at dawn and place a rose on my chest.

I hope he smells like bacon and cinnamon singing country music. "


I believe that Strauss is homosexual and that many of his poems that I have read show this. However, I found it interesting in the above poem that the only illusion to this is the word "he" in the final line. It seems strange that he would put so little attention to it because in other poems such as one named " Gay" it seems so apparent.

Posted by Chris Hernandez at 6:52 PM 0 comments On the Fence about "Fence"

As I began reading "FENCE" I was perplexed by by the abstract and absurd nature of many of the poems. They seemed to be far above my comprehension level and seemed too unique to fit into many of the previous poetry categories I have read. However, as I began to slow down and study each poem I began to appreciate the writing more. I searched for flow between poems and was unable to find any. I wanted to find out if the editors had chosen poems that flowed together or portrayed some overall message. I definitely realized some social commentary, as seen in "OverPass" by Adam Strauss. Sometimes it is apparent, as seen in Strauss' work: "Because this/ Is Los Angeles---/ Home of the world's/ Most glamorous feminism." I was able to understand Strauss' work and many other writers such as Jose Perez Beduya or Kirstin  Hatch.
 
Chris, thank you so much for your response!
 
 

In addition, the poem mentioned in the prior post below reminds me some of the works in Ronald Palmer's book Logicalogics tho not as exuberant.

BRAISING A BOY


josef horáček

The above poem--which I don't include here for formatting reasons--can be found in La Petite Zine and is one I think has got a great title; braising is almost like raising!  The piece very much seems to be in relation to Lara Glenum--but much more tender.  My only quip is the bit that gets rather Steinean: this piece to me feels to have a root of narrative/event not microtonal manipulations (which I often encourage!) though maybe microtonal does relate to flesh breaking down into a suculent goo.

From a blog-comment box post by Kate Z on her own blog:

"summer camp always seemed very mysterious to me. i wonder if i would have kissed boys (or girls) earlier if i had gone to summer camp. as it was, i think i had my first kiss when i was 16 or 17. i'm a strange one, i guess."

I was twenty three for my "first kiss"--the non mom and dad kind.    Urgh, this seems in-line with heterosexual hegemony, that terrifying--no, terrifyingly natural--dynamic which I despise except I don't totally despise it because the world is heterosexual hegemony and I love the world.

Note: I use the term heterosexual hegemony because homophobia doesn't seem apt: that terms sounds like an involuntary condition--the squeal at a spider--whereas I think there is agency acted out to maintain this state.

Snippets of poems from a blob currently titled Heartbreaking--which it mostly ain't:


"Recast As Anger":

Pretty people jig on a rig


Rats riff on reverence

"Luxury":
Perhaps a pat butters her. Rain
Slaps the shingles of this cottage
Like a less
Charming version of one stayed at in Dingle.
My derriere feels divine.
"Deflective":


Strum beside a flooded river.

What’s so lovely about being carried away

Eyes crack open densities.

"Notes For A Hollywood Script: The Working Class":


It’d be utterly glorious if we could queer the working-class
The heterosexual heartland myth disenfranchises its people
And gives pleasure to the very ones who aren’t them
"Blue-Collar Cock-Suckers":


Before they go down the mine-shaft
Some of them suck another one’s dick
Fuck their buddy’s apple ass
Pull their cock out of their mining chaps
So the tattooed bicep boy can lick and lick

"Working Class As(s) Myth":

Is it just me
Or is it not crazy
To say the myth
Of the working class is white

"Not Working":


The longer the myth lasts
The more the blood and guts--brightness and
Blunder--go un-noticed
So that lives revoke their livings;

"Pickup":
 Package

Belonging
To a ripped hick
With a lip o’ dip--

"Parnassus Thrown To Fill That Grave"


If we go gone
The gone might
Sing us a song

"Underwritten By Privilege":


I harbor cruelties
Regarding class in
My cortex
"Myth Revision":


A wee while back I suggested
Miners are fucking in the lift down the shaft

"Courses":


As the sky turns sere, as fusillades
Fly off from merry-go-rounds,
Synapses flare into fulcrums whose every
Center fringes ecstasy, which runs
Its dendritic course into a delta

"Dear Pete Moore I Hope You Enjoy This Dedication":


Wow, modest
Feelings have
Decided
To saturate
My cellular
Make-up like
Rad eye
Liner on its way to
Music, a few
Notes, a few
Particulars

"Heterosexual Shakeup":
I by the sea

Weed as it’s adrift
By the orca
Getting too
Hot for too little protein

"Solipsistic Dialogue":


Strophe: I forget

Counter: That’s fine

Strophe: True and true

Counter: Locutions

Strophe: So where will you go

Counter: Maybe Montana maybe Moscow

Strophe: Gotcha and maybe I’ll visit

"I Love Painting":


1

It’s not a problem and any claim
To the it has is as solution.
So wouldn’t you rather sniff bubblegum?
I don’t know I would and why I wouldn’t
Assume we’d form concordance
Might be proper respect: signal I don’t
Usurp your wills; or that I won’t make us close enough
Thus where the hell am I when it’s clear I need to be
In loving relation to you; right next each other
Not some beautiful metaphysics
Which in its rest will grow more gorgeous.

"Degraded Juncture: Bright Bracelet":


It’s like butt-munchers are everywhere.
It’s like ass
Lickers are scoping each
Other from every corner.
It’s like fucking disgusting.
It’s like outdated. The straight right
Way is at this
Point so obvious
There’s no excuse.

"Love As It Becomes Agape":


Ego, mine, goes and goes
And goes, gathers into an
Imposing curl like one of the
Strands in the hairdos for that runway
Show which showed artifice
Off to a T, a tippy

"Green: A Factual Fiction":


Threaded, thrummed, tripped upon
Attar, essence of
Avatar, adjusted to the quicks and oopsies
This wonderful world
Proffers if you look away and I can’t

"Carlos Armantrout":


The truth
Burned

The ready
Negatives.