On Wednesday I go to Mexico, for the poetry encounter!
This is the website;
I will be sharing a number of video poems, among them:
1. “Hypnosis at the Bird Factory”
2. In Your Face
3. LFMK (Looking for my Killer), a video poam that corresponds with a collection of prose poams of the same title :
expected to be published in some form, likely in 2018, by Jamii
4. The Glory Prelude
How I would like for these events to unfold, a basic plan, not a script:
I would like to project “LFMK (Looking For My Killer) in the Math of Emotion”
In thinking now, although once there , I may realize that a different sequence is better; how flexible may this be?
I shall conclude with “LFMK (Looking for my Killer) —on Sunday.
I would like to open with “Hypnosis at the Bird Factory”, on Saturday. As I like for work to respond to the moment, how much flexibility and deviation is allowed with this plan? Once I am there, interactions themselves may demand something different from this plan, and how responsive can I be with the environment, etc. Are not plans made to change? It is fine with me whatever happens, equipment failure and the like. Flexibility is a huge part of my work, responsiveness to whatever presents itself, and combining these events into some form of new-near—coherence, as my website:
is supposed to exemplify, a pinnacle of interaction and collaboration, in my opinion, of “limited forking”
An awareness of life happening and a need to participate and engage in events wherever and whatever they are around the globe.
A goal is connection.
One prop I will need is a fork of any sort, plastic is fine, and this object will be a necessary part of discussing and sharing my poetic sensibilities, and I would like to talk about the purpose of the website a little bit, in my poetic performance and it would be helpful to be able to refer to the website. An object is necessary, so perhaps a plastic fork for all participants? (tenedor de plástico) —in addition to the fork(s) that those with hands or feet of any sort already have access to.
I will be able to explain.
Will there be sign language translation, someone to help include those with such sensory deficits? Part of the reason that I need to re-define purposes of making, a need to embrace and make meaningful to those whose senses tend to prohibit certain engagements, and often a better way to address this is via ideas about making itself. If I must self-define, I prefer to be called a “maker” so that what I make is less-expected… Unfettered creativity that is responsive to the many forms and varieties of existence. This is really what I do and is at the core of of reasons that I make stuff. The seat of my beliefs. Sometimes I make stuff that others find easier to call poems.
A poam for me can just be releasing a handful of water, sand, watching how something moves or doesn’t as interaction with environment demands, responsiveness to situations, awareness, being part of events and not merely an observer.
No one and nothing makes alone.
“Bubbling” on Sunday, due to its shorter length, “2:53 minutes”.
I would love for “The Glory Prelude” to be part of my presentation, but at 7:04 minutes, it would need to be part of Saturday as there is more time.
I fear that my response could be lacking, but I am not one for whom what is planned cannot or should not deviate. I am a maker, indeed a person, of deviation as you will see very soon now. I cannot wait to meet all of you.
The main poem I will be sharing is my extension of poem written by another poet, friend of mine for a number of years, about 40, Bob Holman,
“If You See Something, Say Something,”
Postcard of Bob’s famous poem , to which I added an amazing addition
a little poem that packs a wallop.
My extension of this poem as published in “The Fiddlehead” (under the pseudonym Thomas Robert Higginson):
–in response to: “If you See something, Say something”
–Thomas Robert Higginson
“If you See something, Say Something
Wax grapes, apples
On my mother’s dining room table
I see this also
my father washing dishes
down the drain
plates clean, heavenly,
full of banana water spots
we eat the shadows.
two of which
are my father’s
yet I float on clouds
into such a clean, pure kingdom
that nothing else matters
just a banana which I eat the moment I arrive.
copyright © 2016 by Thylias Moss. Published by arrangement with the author. All rights reserved.
I will post plenty of photos and updates as soon as I arrive in Mexico City!
Forecast is for rain the entire time the I am there, and impact from Hurricane Dora:
Going to be wet and maybe wild while I am gone!
and about a week after I return will be performing at the Bowery Poetry Center in Manhattan!
Title of BPC Event:
LFMK (Looking for my Killer)
Looking for My Killer (in the math of emotion)
I will be sharing
—decadent, malicious little vignettes as delectable as string cheese, refreshingly irreverent as you digest it, perhaps also blissfully irrelevant
—pure indulgent naughtiness
—splendid, if only for the wickedness
—ghastly! bereft of redeeming values; mocks our most esteemed institutions, even life itself
—written by the light of hellfire; dazzling touches base with the base
LFMK is a collection of prose poams that may see publication in 2018 at the earliest from Jamii; what a fine bit of service to the community.
Here is a photo of me:
(the one and only)
most delicious beads I have ever sucked.
Somewhat reminiscent of an episode of “Designing Women”:
THE WOMEN OF ATLANTA -May 1, 1989
Written by: Linda Bloodworth-Thomason
Directed by: Harry Thomason
The ladies agree to be involved in a pictorial essay on the women of Atlanta, but are soon suspicious when the photographer requests poses that are purely sexual, including putting a strand of pearls in Julia’s mouth and asking her to “ever-so-slightly suck on them” — a big mistake.