Albert Glover at Caffe Lena

Posted 6 October, 2010 in Albany, Poetry

From 101006_caffe_lena

I had the distinct pleasure of having dinner with the poet Albert Glover tonight and then hearing him read at Caffe Lena. Thanks to Alan Casline for putting the event together and for inviting me to tag along. If you’re not familiar with Albert’s writing, look him up. He’s well worth the effort.

Here are the photos I took tonight of several of the poets who read, including Albert:

And here’s a video I shot of one of Albert’s poems:

I also have an audio recording of Albert’s entire set, which is going to be part of a new project I’ll be announcing soon. Stay tuned!

Violating a law (of nature)

Posted 5 August, 2010 in Albany, Random Musings

I asked my landlord for a weed wacker / and he gave me a slingblade

No, that’s not the first line of a terrible, Billy-Bob-Thornton-inspired blues song. Read on.

For those of you who know me even slightly, you know there is one underlying philosophy that informs every aspect of my life. It is the beacon of wisdom that lights my way forward, and it is this:

I hate manual labor, especially if it occurs outside.

So when I asked my landlord to borrow a weed wacker so I could clean up our side of the block, I fully expected to be pulling a crank line and buzzing my way down the street. Instead, I had a lovely opportunity to study the life of a 19th-century farmer as I hacked and chopped my way down the street.

Before we go to the video, allow me to mention two other facts:

• It was 78 degrees Farenheit
• The humidity was 96%

Let’s go to the tape:

Reading (and playing the saxophone) in Albany this week

Posted 12 July, 2010 in Albany, My poems, Poetry

This Thursday, one night only: the Poets Jazz Trio at the Social Justice Center, 33 Central Ave in Albany. Poets Jason Crane (poems, sax, percussion), Dan Wilcox (sax, percussion) and Tom Corrado (bass) will perform a 20-minute set of jazz and Jason’s poetry. There will also be an open mic hosted by Dan Wilcox. The shindig starts at 7:30 p.m. Be there!

POEM: First Night of Summer, 2010

Posted 22 June, 2010 in Albany, Audio Poems, My poems, Poetry

Listen to this poem using the player above.

First Night of Summer, 2010

At the Mobil station on the corner of Quail and New Scotland,
an obese man in a tank top delivers a lawnmower from the trunk
of his NASCAR-stickered beater to a young man in the latest

summer fashions. The obese man plops back into the driver’s seat,
reaches an arm through the open window to haul the door shut,
cranks up the radio, loudly injecting a surprising R&B track

into the first night of summer. Did the Indian or Pakistani or Sri Lankan
cashier in the Mobil station ever imagine himself here?
Did he play soccer or cricket as a child back home, dreaming

of the night when he’d sell Cheetos and Double Chocolate Milanos
to another obese man in dirty shorts, while R&B blared
and nervous SUV drivers stopped on the way to the suburbs?

Did any of us dream of this night? We sat on our mothers’ laps,
had our backs rubbed, dreamed of being paleontologists
or marine biologists or superheroes, not of schlepping to the gas station

to buy crap before the Red Sox game. In case you hadn’t guessed,
I’m the Second Man, one before Welles and not that many pounds off,
selling no wine before my time, plodding past the young and beautiful people

at the bars to get to the late-night sanctuary of those with no place else to go.
How the fuck did this happen? Where did the dumpster in my driveway
come from? Who put all those memories in there?

I want my mother, or at least the possibility she represented.
I want to go home, but I’m already there, and there’s a dumpster
in the driveway, and in a few days the men will come and haul it away.

POEM: Lark Definitions

Posted 25 May, 2010 in Albany, Audio Poems, My poems, Poetry

Listen to this poem using the player above.

A poem for the Lark Tavern in Albany, NY, which was destroyed by fire in May 2010 and which will return.

Lark Definitions

it’s a bird noted for its singing
it’s a verb meaning to play
it can denote a certain lack of care
but that is itself a trick
a surface appearance that masks
desperate attention to detail
for we do care, each of us
we’ve stood naked under lights
that show blood red on film
we’ve bared all, opened our bone cages
to let fly the nightingales
(also noted for their singing)
we’ve confessed lovers, told
strangers truths no one else knows
all under the watchful eyes
of attentive servers who
notice yet don’t let on
a man in a bookstore asked me
how it feels to be the last
featured poet at the Lark
“I won’t be the last,” I said

POEM: Stand up, Moses

Posted 22 May, 2010 in Albany, Audio Poems, My poems, Poetry

Listen to this poem using the player above.

A poem for Albany-based writer and poet Moses Kash III. The first line is from a poem Moses read at Dan Wilcox’s Third Thursday Poetry Reading on May 20, 2010.

Stand up, Moses

white people have got hold of all the cash
except Americus Moses Kash the third
he remains independent of their influence
standing tall on bad knees and black sneakers
proclaiming … this word … and … this word … and …
the word, born of life lived with tall vision
he does not shirk his duty, tells it like it is
as he has seen it, felt its sting
captured its image in his lens
boxes and boxes and stacks and stacks
stacks and stacks and boxes and boxes
he still uses the word “mimeograph”
as if time stopped in the 1960s
and maybe it did
can you prove that your heart is beating​?

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