St. Mark’s Poetry Project
11may’15
I couldn’t have said it better myself. Monday night at the Poetry Project is a gathering of the younger generation of poets, one that has the atmosphere of a gathering of friends showing off their new work; unlike the stiff formality of the Wednesday night Poetry Project readings, the Monday night gathering hosted in the smaller back room of St. Marks, and is booze friendly and laughter-encouraging.
There were two poets to read that night, and the first poet to take the stage absolutely stole the show; SteveZultanski blew the audience away with an extended firebombing of a reading that he delivered in a high-octane monotone that left the room breathless. His first poem dealt with the guilt of white males, and the assertion that government leaders are responsible for the actions of those they govern. This was detailed in surreal scenes where Obama was the perpetrator in a variety of violent and disturbing crimes, which shocked the audience into laughter at the ridiculous and frightening nature of the assertions. So many intensely disturbing scenes were detailed, and Zultanski made the incredibly insightful statement “I don’t remember not doing it”, so maybe he was in fact guilty of these many crimes. Zultanski kept pace with his readings by dance-stepping his way back and forth, maintaining a rhythm that wove his jet-fueled images together.
After Zultanski read, there was an extended cigarette break in the courtyard where the poets gathered and discussed many things, including the hours of the liquor store across the street and the difficulty of reading poetry at weddings. Soon the break was over and we returned to hear the next poet.
Donato Mancini read from his piece Introspective Data, which centered around unanswered questions. One of the first questions asked was “do you like beautiful poetry?” and I felt the question was directed at me. Mancini read as a poet who knows they are reading beautiful poetry: his hands followed the paced rhythm of his words, and he self-consciously looked up only when a member of the audience would leave the room. Laughter was contained, and it was obvious that this was his first reading in this group of young poets. His questions were many, and encompassed everything from the material of heavenly trumpets to the vegan status of bananas harvested with slave labor. Although the lines connected by association from one question to the next, there was little overarching theme aside from self and social introspection. In all honesty, it was a delightful and insightful reading, but I felt it had a difficult time competing with the intense fervor ofZultanski’s work.
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