Yes, there will be a Zoom poetry reading and discussion this Saturday. Alexander Laurence will feature, reading from his book The Analog Body. Our powerful Open Reading will follow the feature. Click on the underlined link below at the appointed time to join the reading.
Poetry Reading & Discussion, Saturday May 2, 2:00 PM PDT
To Join by Telephone: (669) 444-9171
Meeting ID: 840 4579 5179
I first met Alexander Laurence in the mid-1980s through common friends at the Cafe Babar reading in San Francisco. He was active in organizing readings and interested in avant-garde writing and art. He became a journalist and publisher with his magazine Cups which specialized in cafe culture and ran through the 1990s. He currently has a podcast called The Portable Infinite. All these titles are linked above.
His ideas about writing are interesting and perhaps a different cross section from the mainstream. The following is taken from the Afterword in his book, The Analog Body. He’s more interested in The New York School poets (O’Hara, Ashbery, etc.) than most of the Beats. Those Beats he mentions are lesser-known experimental poets, such as Robert Creeley and Jack Spicer. He comes out of L.A. and admires later L.A. poets in the NY School vein, such as such as David Trinidad and Amy Gerstler. He was at CSULB with Gerald Locklin and, while enjoying Bukowski, prefers the work of John Fante. He was inspired by the outlaw music-poetry crossovers of the 1970s and 1980s, such as Jim Carroll, Gil Scott-Heron, or Leonard Cohen. He read and was taken by the Modernists, French Symbolists, and Surrealists, nurturing an affinity for avant-garde exploration and art. He found his way to Cafe Babar, appreciating Danielle Willis and David Lerner. His book includes poems to notable but less-remembered poets of that era, such as Dominique Lowell and Joie Cook. He also found his way among the Language Poets of San Francisco in that era. In these scenes he’s been eclectic—a participant without feeling himself a member of any. Here are two paragraphs of text about poetry from his book, followed by a few poems he thought would be good to share.
-- Bruce Issacson
Alexander Laurence
“What does the word Poetry mean in 2024? Not very much. Many people write “poetry” but few of them read the Poetry of the past. I define Poetry as the concentrated use of language. It is saying the most with the fewest words. I acknowledge that the best poetry is a combination of feeling, sound, and thought, expressed in an unsentimental way. It can involve wit and comedy. It can draw on the history of literature. Often there is some originality of form or language involved, and it’s not just rehashing a vague notion of “poetry.” The best work has imagery that is crystal clear and has a purpose. It can have music, cadence, and philosophy. Poetry should have the feeling of being written, edited, and distilled… Always re-written, re-edited, and reduced. I don’t get a sense of elevated language with most contemporary poetry and poetry readings.”
“I see my own poems as one long extended dream. Often during the poem, I am traveling somewhere unknown. Words sometimes separate from objects. I can’t find the exact name for the thing before me. Objects swerve into other objects. Language doesn’t work. It’s in this dreamlike state I often find myself. Reality is coming apart and I losing myself in the dream.”
Alexander Laurence
“What does the word Poetry mean in 2024? Not very much. Many people write “poetry” but few of them read the Poetry of the past. I define Poetry as the concentrated use of language. It is saying the most with the fewest words. I acknowledge that the best poetry is a combination of feeling, sound, and thought, expressed in an unsentimental way. It can involve wit and comedy. It can draw on the history of literature. Often there is some originality of form or language involved, and it’s not just rehashing a vague notion of “poetry.” The best work has imagery that is crystal clear and has a purpose. It can have music, cadence, and philosophy. Poetry should have the feeling of being written, edited, and distilled… Always re-written, re-edited, and reduced. I don’t get a sense of elevated language with most contemporary poetry and poetry readings.”
“I see my own poems as one long extended dream. Often during the poem, I am traveling somewhere unknown. Words sometimes separate from objects. I can’t find the exact name for the thing before me. Objects swerve into other objects. Language doesn’t work. It’s in this dreamlike state I often find myself. Reality is coming apart and I losing myself in the dream.”
