Sunday, October 30
6:00pm - 9:00pm
West Village, NYC
A parade of poets through the West Village, on the eve of All Hallows' Eve.
Costumed performances by...
Jennifer Michael Hecht (new addition!)
Jennifer L. Knox
K. Silem Mohammad
Map with route and reading points will be available at a later date, but we will likely be hitti
For about the past five years or more, I’ve been mostly writing about ideas of separation or loss. Not really in terms of grief, but more specifically the shifts that take place when things “come apart.” My first book, Slope Move, is a book-length poem entirely about separation–from an “other”, from the self (feeling divided, or having an alternate consciousness) and from narrative (the changes that occur in a story due to passage of time, shifts in perception, and ‘flaws’ in
We have a fantastic group of women behind the scenes at Switchback Books, and our Assistant Managing Editor, Colleen O'Connor, is a superstar! Colleen is reading in Chicago tomorrow afternoon, as part of the 33 Reading Series at Columbia College Chicago. We New Yorkers are jealous! Go see Colleen along with nonfiction writer Toni Nealie and poets Leif Haven and Steve Roggenbuck.
Come one, come all, to one or all of Jennifer Tamayo's upcoming NYC appearances! Poetry Project St. Mark's Church Monday, Oct. 17th @ 8PM w/ Robert Fernandez The 4th Annual Poetry Brothel Masquerade The Back Room
102 Norfolk St, NYC-$10 Sunday, Oct. 23rd @ 9PM (til 2AM) w/ the Poetry Whores The Stain of Poetry Series Goodbye Blue Monday 1087 Broadway BK Friday, November 18th @7PM ALSO: meaty review of [red missed aches] at HTMLGIANT ALSO: new video at LIP SYNC
The latest strain of Feminism, the so-called Post-Gender moment, which seems to return, ironically, to Feminism’s original rally for otherness over mere resistance, not a pushing back but moving another direction entirely, into an unnamed space, wouldn’t satisfy Tamayo’s complexity of vision which must be gendered: “(there) that instance is the motherest of mothers/ I can’t/ write experience without her.” It’s a fierce sound Tamayo uses, beyond language, certainly Anzaldúa’s