PHOTOS & RECAP: Jamie Kilstein at Last Rites

Posted 24 July, 2011 in Concert Recaps, New York City

From July 24, 2011

Jamie Kilstein is a progressive comedian and the co-host, with his wife, journalist Allison Kilkenny, of Citizen Radio, a daily politics & comedy podcast. You should follow Jamie and Allison and the show on Twitter: @jamiekilstein, @allisonkilkenny and @citizenradio.

From July 24, 2011

Last night I went to see Jamie at easily the oddest place I’ve ever been — Paul Booth’s Last Rites tattoo gallery. Jamie’s comedy set was part of a weekend of events to celebrate the launch of Booth’s expanded facilities, which now include an art gallery and performance space in addition to the world’s craziest and most nightmare-inducing tattoo parlor. I had never been in a place even remotely like this, and I was grateful for a chance to hang out there and experience a scene that was totally new to me.

From July 24, 2011

It was a weird gig. The mic had so much extra bass on it that it boomed throughout the set and hit enough low notes to cause involuntarily bowel movements. It was also extremely difficult (sometimes impossible) to make out what Jamie was saying during the show. And given the party nature of the event, there were tons of people milling about the room talking during the performance.

From July 24, 2011

To add to the excitement, Jamie had a long-untreated concussion and should have been in the hospital, not on a stage. (In fact, he’s at the emergency room right now as I’m typing this post. And, in true Kilstein fashion, he’s live-tweeting his experience.)

From July 24, 2011

All that aside, though, Jamie still managed to reach people with his cutting-edge observations on gay rights, the killing of Osama Bin Laden and being a vegan. He pulls no punches and — despite the obvious impact such stances must have on his career — he speaks the truth at every opportunity. Definitely a comic, and a human being, worthy of respect.

From July 24, 2011

All in all, a fun night. If you dig tattoo art, check out Last Rites. I’ve heard there’s a pretty long waiting list to get tattooed there, so book now. And if you appreciate fearless and funny political comedy, please go see Jamie Kilstein and listen to (and support!) Citizen Radio. Our world needs more of these folks.

UPDATE (Greenwald style!): Just to prove I was telling the truth about Jamie’s medical condition, here’s a photo taken of him in the emergency room this morning:

POEM: barefoot on the N train

Posted 23 July, 2011 in My poems, New York City, Poetry

barefoot on the N train

barefoot man polishing a smartphone
talks incessantly on the N train
until the woman across the car
screams “shut up! stop talking!”
everyone who had been pretending to sleep
is looking now, eyes drawn toward the end of the car
where the argument erupts into life
like summer thunder and is gone as quickly
the storm contained in this hot box beneath Brooklyn

POEM: talk to me

Posted 22 July, 2011 in My poems, New York City, Poetry

A poem inspired by the Talk To Me exhibit at the Museum of Modern Art in New York. The exhibit is now in members-only preview and opens to the public on 7/24.

/ / /

talk 2 me in 1s & 0s
peer @ me w/ your LED eyes
tell me you love me w/ a stream of ticker tape
reach out & touch me

POEM: a Brooklyn haiku

Posted 21 July, 2011 in Haiku, My poems, Poetry

sunshine iced tea bagel
“I Saw Her Standing There”
Green Fig in July

POEM: Exhale

Posted 19 July, 2011 in My poems, New York City, Poetry

Exhale

he’s wearing a white Oxford
when his jacket arms pull up
I can see his shirt cuffs are dirty

now I look closer — frayed ends of his pants
shoes with worn soles and scuffed sides
a small cigarette burn on one lapel
hand under his handle-less briefcase

is he going home after yet another interview?
does he have a wife somewhere in Brooklyn
who thinks he’s at work?
or was she washed away, too, in the flash flood
of changing fortunes?

I wait because I know it’s coming
and it does:
the long exhale
the one he can’t control
the air forced out of his body
as if his own lungs are trying to
mercifully asphyxiate him

for a second I wonder whether he’ll breathe in again
he does
the train passes Chambers Street

POEM: Hanabi

Posted 16 July, 2011 in Random Musings

Hanabi

I’m beginning to suspect New York isn’t real
walking the High Line under a full moon
fireworks booming off the Battery

“people” stop in every shadow
kissing, clinging
breathing each other in

along the way is a hotel with no curtains
where lovers young and old put on a show
for the second-story handholders

I can’t help laughing, struggling
to suspend my disbelief that such a place
(such a night) could exist

in the Hudson are the half-submerged pilings
of long-dead piers, incomplete stories
washed away by the water

we are writing our own story
inscribing it under the full moon
while the fireworks light the Battery sky

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