What I’m doing these days.
Well, I am starting to get itchy, restless again. Either from my addiction to jumping into shit and doing, related to my aversion to folks who are (culture that is) perpetually talking about what they’re planning to do. Or because where we’re at as a nation is vile, trashy, intolerable. Being an educator, and being in a field that is about coaxing people into creativity and thoughtfulness means something I should not be taking for granted or squandering.
I have been editing (curating) e-chapbook anthologies of political poetry; I — and many others — have been trying to open what “political poetry” is, what it means to write from a place of political consciousness, from a place of critical and historical awareness, from a place of personal inquiry and intersectionality. So far, one poetry e-chapbook anthology of Pilipinx political poetry, one of women’s political poetry with one more on the way. I want to take this e-chapbook format to PAWA.
I like this “small” venue, and in general, I like the “small” poetry venue, the DIY ethic, independent of institutional prestige. I like the kinds of intense convergences of aesthetics and poetics that can happen there. Perhaps the term is cross pollination. But am also thinking of the metaphors I’ve been using for my students to understand some elements of the postmodern — mosaics, collages, fractures and fragments that force you to step far back to assess and understand the larger, more apparently cohesive picture.
I have poems and essays forthcoming in a whole bunch of diverse maybe even disparate types of publications both print and internet based, and it’s a matter of patience. I am grateful to be sought after by editors, to have my words mean something especially during such political difficulty. I was told that my bluntness, my clear calling out to the community to be accountable to one another is welcome. Yes, I am grateful, and I also think, finally, and if only this appreciation for my brand of honesty lasts.
Abigail Licad of Hyphen has just written high and critical and personal praise for Poeta en San Francisco, over a decade after its release, and I am reassured that my work is doing good things, reaching the people it needs to reach.
Invocation to Daughters is due for release in November, and its book description continues to floor me. It’s a tall order. I’m up for it. Can poetry matter. I have to believe it can.