Excerpts and Samples



Deming's Lecture on iTunes
If you missed Alison Hawthorne Deming's lecture entitled "Baba Yaga, Demeter, and the Drunken Mother: Myth, Metaphor, and Science at the End of the World,” you can listen to it for free on iTunes.





Rope
The man gathers rope every summer
off the stone beaches of the North.
There is no sand in this place
where the Labrador Current runs
like an artery through the body of the Atlantic
channeling particles that once were glacial ice
and now are molecules making
not one promise to anyone.
The man gathers rope with his hands,
both the rope and the hands
worn from use. The rope from hauling
up traps and trawl lines, the hands
from banging into rocks, rusted nails,
fish knives, winch gears, and bark.
The rope starts to pull apart fiber by fiber
like the glacial ice, and the man wishes
he could find a way to bind it
back together the way a cook binds
syrup or sauce with corn starch.
The rope lies in the cellar for years,
coiled, stinking of the sea and the fish
that once lived in the sea and the sweat
of the man who wishes he could save one
strand of the world from unraveling.

From Rope by Alison Deming, Penguin, publication date September 29, 2009.











Listen to David Rothenberg's Soundscape samples here.





























June and finally snowpeas
sweeten the Mission Valley.
High behind the numinous meadows
ladybugs swarm, like huge
lacquered fans from Hong Kong,
like the serrated skirts
of blown poppies,
whole mountains turn red.
And in the blue penstemon
grizzly bears swirl
as they bat snags of color
against their ragged mouths.
Have you never wanted
to spin like that
on hairy, leathered feet,
amid the swelling berries
as you tasted a language
of early summer? Shaping
the lazy operatic vowels,
cracking the hard-shelled
consonants like speckled
insects between your teeth,
have you never wanted
to waltz the hills
like a beast?

From “What Makes the Grizzlies Dance” by Sandra Alcosser



rows of silent type saguaros
claim a cactus length, squat
with an agile, retractable gun

and nest in flesh and finches
thickest skinned, shadiest
fruits in July burst open, to dust

or wear a bruised mantle of pollen
Phyllostomatidae up to ears
in honey, skunks from the cup

gets drunk on rain, sometimes
the arm falls and other trysts
between dirt & light, yellow cups

open californica one by one
a pushover, a lightning’s blast
hovers from verbena

From “Carnegia Gigantea,” Political Cactus Poems (Long Beach: Palm Press, 2005) by Jonathan Skinner

I’d like to think we had agreed upon this together, that we had a tradition, that we agreed these things explained us to us but when not really me wakes after drinking the pharmaceuticals and photo chemicals night after night and day after day not really me will sing a song of rebuke, sing the song of not really me, the song that goes like Salutations to brominated fire retardants of Koppers Ind.

goes like Salutations to water/oil repellent paper coating of 3M goes like Salutations to wiper blades of Asahi goes like Salutations to bike chain lubricant of Clariant International goes like Salutations to wire and cable insulation of Daikin goes like Salutations to pharmaceutical packaging of DuPont goes like Salutations to nail polish of Dyneon goes like Salutations to engine oil additive of Agrevo E goes like Salutations to hair curling and straightening of Agsin Ptd. Ltd.

From “the Tradition” by Juliana Spahr

Click here to listen to an excerpt from Underwater Invertebrates by David Dunn.









































Click here to view of sample of Lucinda Bliss' artwork.



































the lizard aims her golden eyes at the rocks that in time will turn to sand, and
the wind slips through life’s waters; an incident in the brilliance of
hydrangea surprises her, as she winds a hose that like a viper refolds
itself after inciting temptation; in this brutal way, vibrations make
themselves felt, even when age causes bodies to recoil from their
unexpected whims; it is perhaps an uncontrollable desire to attract and
to reject, or rather, sense can be found in the casting of nets, like
sliding on to the water’s surface, grazing the proximate radiance of rocks,
a remote shudder unable to warn against the imminent outlet in which
the sea and the current perform their continuous embrace of rejection-
attraction; to be guided by the senses towards that re-encounter,
without sky to guarantee future arrival or rather to let one be

carried by the amazement of not knowing the exact direction of
the legs or cardinal points; the sun appoints with its sword a certainty,
but nothing indicates that this is the direction of the waves, of the
rocks, of the body gliding towards the celestial abyss of light

From Mauve Sea-Orchids by Lila Zemborain (New York: Belladonna, 2007)
Translated by Rosa Alcalá

Suspension Bridge
A peddling of goods through the lake, this district of impiety that is afternoon sleep. The sun slants hard through the triptych, each shutter warding away, poorly, the delivery guy’s neutral stare. Tangled in the comforter are things you’ve been translating. Each version flirts with and suspends an attraction, pushing off the bank, then rowing back in unpredictable intervals. What if you make it across those mossy clumps of water, and into the town where everyone meddles and labors in concert? Knowing already there’s no return. Or insist on a voyage through larger bodies of water, indiscriminate in the arms of the fleet.

From Undocumentaries by Rosa Alcalá (forthcoming, Shearsman Books)






In the deadyard at Dolores crumbling into dust & light
        is California and California’s
variegated surface forgets that dust which came
to bequeath them space & light, nudibranchs did I
say Cachuma’s foot
prints in the ashy mud of the bones of our forefathers
        ground
up like pellets did I turn to the bones of mice bones in
        the coyote fox eagle shit

A spine brought to the whole length of California was
        laid out like a golden wheel-veil
of cascade of oldest & largest living things and
        everything was crushed
in a Catherine wheel

From The California Poem by Eleni Sikelianos
Fall 2009 Readings & Lectures

Click here for UA Prose Series readings.
Click here for some benefits taking place at the Poetry Center this semester.

“Oh Earth, Wait for Me”: Conversations about Art and Ecology
Co-Sponsored by the Center for Biological Diversity

This fall the Poetry Center and the Center for Biological Diversity present a reading and lecture series featuring artists who directly engage with ecological issues. Poets, musicians, and visual artists will share their work and discuss their contributions to a deepening understanding of our contemporary relationships with environment, organisms, and energy. In this series you may expect to encounter sounds of trees, scientist-artists, mauve sea-orchids, poems that translate between the human and non-, and a wide-ranging conversation about how art can instigate the perceptual, moral, and political changes demanded of us now.

All events are free and open to the public, and take place at the Poetry Center.

“Listening to Hidden Sound Worlds: Merging Art and Science to Reveal Unknown Communication Patterns”: A Lecture by David Dunn
Thursday, October 29, 8:00 p.m.
Co-Sponsored by the Institute of the Environment

Ecologist, composer, and explorer David Dunn presents soundscapes that use electro-acoustic resources, voice, and non-human living systems, as well as traditional instruments. He will also discuss his collaborations with scientists towards environmental problem-solving through an art and science synthesis.

David Dunn is a composer who rarely presents concerts or installations and instead prefers to lecture and engage in site-specific interactions or research-oriented activities. Much of his current work is focused upon the development of listening strategies and technologies for environmental sound monitoring in both aesthetic and scientific contexts. He was an assistant to the American composer Harry Partch and remained active as a performer in the Harry Partch Ensemble for over a decade. He has worked in a wide variety of audio media inclusive of traditional and experimental music, installations for public exhibitions, video and film soundtracks, radio broadcasts, and bioacoustic research. Presently he is President of both the Art and Science Laboratory and the Acoustic Ecology Institute. His compositions and soundscape recordings have appeared in many international forums, concerts, broadcasts, and exhibitions. Besides his multiple books, recordings and soundtracks, he has been anthologized in over 50 books and journals. Dunn was the recipient of the prestigious Alpert Award for Music in 2005 and the Henry Cowell Award from the American Music Center in 2007. He lives in Santa Fe, New Mexico.

Lila Zemborain and Rosa Alcalá
Thursday, November 19, 8:00 p.m.

Lila Zemborain and Rosa Alcalá present a bilingual reading of Zemborain’s Mauve Sea-Orchids, translated by Rosa Alcalá and Mónica de la Torre. Mauve Sea-Orchids plays with scientific language as it explores desire and connectivity. Zemborain and Alcalá also read from their new work.

Also: On Friday, November 20, at 3:30 p.m., Zemborain and Alcalá return for a colloquium on their experience of working together to translate Zemborain’s Mauve Sea-Orchids. You’re invited to bring your questions about their process and the art of translation.

Argentinean poet Lila Zemborain has been living in New York since 1985. She is the author of the poetry collections, Abrete sésamo debajo del agua (1993), Usted (1998), Guardianes del secreto (2002) / Guardians of the Secret (Noemi Press, 2009), Malvas orquídeas del mar (2004) /Mauve-Sea Orchids (Belladonna Books, 2007), Rasgado (2006) and in collaboration with artist Martin Reyna La couleur de l’eau / El color del agua (Virginie Boissiere, 2008). She has authored the book-length essay Gabriela Mistral: Una mujer sin rostro. From 2000 to 2006, she was the director and editor of the Rebel Road Series, and since 2003 she has curated the KJCC Poetry Series at New York University, where she teaches at the MFA program in Creative Writing in Spanish. In 2007 she was awarded a Guggenheim Fellowship for poetry.

Rosa Alcalá is the author of two chapbooks, Some Maritime Disasters This Century (Belladonna, 2003) and Undocumentary (Dos Press, 2008). Her poems also appear in The Wind Shifts: New Latino Poetry (University of Arizona Press, 2007). Her translations include Lila Zemborain’s Guardians of the Secret (Noemi Press, 2009), Lourdes Vázquez’s Bestiary (Bilingual Press, 2004), and Cecilia Vicuña’s El Templo (Situations Press, 2001). Translations of poems by Alfonsina Storni and others appear in The Oxford Book of Latin American Poetry (2009). Born and raised in Paterson, New Jersey, she currently teaches in the Department of Creative Writing and Bilingual MFA Program at the University of Texas at El Paso.

“Oh Earth, Wait for Me” is made possible in part by the sponsorship of the Center for Biological Diversity. The Center is founded on the belief that the welfare of human beings is deeply linked to nature—to the existence in our world of a vast diversity of wild animals and plants. Because diversity has intrinsic value, and because its loss impoverishes society, the Center works to secure a future for all species, great and small, hovering on the brink of extinction. It does so through science, law, and creative media, with a focus on protecting the lands, waters, and climate that species need to survive. Learn more at www.biologicaldiversity.org.


Spring 2009 Readings
Fall 2008 Readings
Spring 2008 Readings

 

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