Folks, what are you doing tomorrow night at 7pm? Join us for our last Assembly Reading Group meeting, as well as the beginning of something new. PM for details.
All municipalist meetings should be followed by a barbecue. Or, preceeded by, or take place during.
Fri, Aug. 26, 2016 ⁄ 7:00–9:00pm
Book Release… Against the Picture – Window: A Time of the Phoenix Compendium & My Singularity
Please join Beyond Repair and Society Editions at The White Page Gallery for the release of Society’s first two publications of poetry at the intersection of political speech: Against the Picture – Window: A Time of the Phoenix Compendium and My Singularity, a new chapbook by Minnesota-based poet, Sun Yung Shin.
Poems will be read. Books will be on offer. Drinks on hand.
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TIME OF THE PHOENIX
Time of the Phoenix was a series of chapbooks produced and circulated around the Uptown area of Chicago and further afield from the late 1960s to the mid-70s, which served as a platform for the urban white poor of the neighborhood. Through poetry and other verse, authors articulate their lives in relation to police abuse, living in poverty, domestic violence, addiction and more. A vehicle for a voiceless population to find voice with one another, Time of the Phoenix was a tactical action in print devised by the Young Patriots—a group of radicalized, young southern white migrants living in Chicago’s Uptown neighborhood. Along with “organizing in their own” through projects such as the chapbook series, the YPO went on to help form the Rainbow Coalition with the Young Lords, and Fred Hampton and the Black Panthers.
Working with founding YPO member, Hy Thurman, Society Editions has published Against the Picture – Window: A Time of the Phoenix Compendium, a collection of original works which appeared in Time of the Phoenix, as well as original photographic documents, interviews, commentary, and contemporary poetic works which speak across history and experience to the voices which originally appeared in the chapbook series.
MY SINGULARITY
My Singularity brilliantly graphs the myth of Pinocchio onto the contemporary flux of human identity amid advances in artificial intelligence and the human genome project, crafting a deeply felt extended metaphor for the physical body as site of meaning, a screen onto which multiple stories are at all times being projected. Sun Yung Shin’s intelligence and empathetic reach appear infinite as she imbues a wooden puppet with the kind of pathos we normally reserve for ourselves. The poem demonstrates an ethos at work typified by W.B. Yeats’s claim that “the quarrels we have with others are rhetoric / The quarrels we have with ourselves is poetry.” Allowing the latter to show itself is no small feat in a political climate that engenders discord and factionalism at every turn. Her poem searches the identity of the orphan, the manufactured psyche, the worker, and locates the vulnerable body of the nation-state as it exists as a living, breathing organism.
My Singularity is a single poem published as a chapbook by Society Editions.
SOCIETY EDITIONS
Society is a construction, dismantled and reformed daily, yearly, through our perceptions and public pronouncements, either shouted or whispered. As an expandable publishing platform, Society concerns itself with the intersection where poetry meets speech and where private and public life collide. Society is timely and agile, responsive and responsible, paper and air.
If poetry can act as an ethical barometer of a population in time, Society changes with you and you change Society. Society is a response and then a record.
As an imprint, through a yearly almanac, individual books, chaplets, posters, actions, programs, et al, Society aims to pick away and uncover the role and possibilities of poetry as public speech, how abstract, or seemingly obtuse, texts can engage and decipher very real and timely issues around public life and power.
Society Editions is co-edited by Mary Austin Speaker, Chris Martin, and Sam Gould
Wed, Jul. 27, 2016 ⁄ 7:00–9:00pm
Poetry Reading: Reset North America to Default Settings
Join us as local poet, and fellow editor of WLPP’s Society Editions, Mary Austin Speaker reads with poets from Monster House Press on tour through the MidWest of N. America.
The line-up includes, thus far:
Wendy Lee Spacek
Richard Wehrenberg, Jr.
Morgan Eldridge
Mary Austin Speaker
Against the Picture – Window: A Time of the Phoenix Compendium is rolling and ready for its release during the Young Patriots Uptown walking tour Friday afternoon in Chicago. Can’t wait! This book is fantastic.
BLACK GIRL – Shirley Clark
They call me black girl,
But yet, I am not black.
I say to myself , “why do they call me black?”
Black means something dead or bad.
I know I am not dead for I am breathing.
I don`t feel like I`m bad,I`m good.
But then again what is bad? What is good?
They call me black girl
I don`t understand.
I do understand that, that is my name
They put on me.
So be it me or not be it me.
I am proud, I stand tall, I am brave
And strong.
I cry , laugh, and reach out…
They call me Black Girl.
1973 TOP
from Against the Picture – Window: A Time of the Phoenix Compendium
Sat, Feb. 13, 2016 ⁄ 6:00–8:00pm
Undercommons Reading Group
“In this series of essays Fred Moten and Stefano Harney draw on the theory and practice of the black radical tradition as it supports, inspires, and extends contemporary social and political thought and aesthetic critique. Today the general wealth of social life finds itself confronted by mutations in the mechanisms of control: the proliferation of capitalist logistics, governance by credit, and the management of pedagogy. Working from and within the social poesis of life in the undercommons Moten and Harney develop and expand an array of concepts: study, debt, surround, planning, and the shipped. On the fugitive path of an historical and global blackness, the essays in this volume unsettle and invite the reader to the self-organised ensembles of social life that are launched every day and every night amid the general antagonism of the undercommons.”
Can we ethically release ourselves from a social moment that we find reprehensible? What about those we leave behind? Politically, socially, ethically can an individual be in two places at once? How do we live within contradiction and feel empowered, not hypocritical?
The Undercommons Reading Groups meets each Saturday evening from 6 – 8, usually followed with some beers and tacos at Eastlake Craft Brewing.
Free “bootlegged” paperback copies are available at Beyond Repair. For those yet to attend, a PDF is available here.
All levels and interests of inquiry welcome, from the theoretical to the deeply practical and local.
THE MASKS ARE FOR OUR OWN SAFETY
Chris Martin
Duct-taping the mouth of the oracle shut
Finance doesn’t need a body
It needs everybody
Bed bugs leisurely fleecing
A handwritten note reading free
As Hurricane Patricia scalps the coast
I say tomorrow, you say opportunity
(everything’s a mouth)
I say opportunity, you say property
As we (endless
Dolly shot) glide across the sidewalks
I want to fondle each tree
Marked with a green x
Because, I dunno, they’re possessed?
Our red carpet of papier-mâché leaves
Turns into one big banana peel
In the freezing autumn rain
This week we’re fucking and making a baby
Giving the cat away so I can breathe again
There’s a twitch in the translucent
Hood of my left eyelid
Tapping out Morse code to the half-buried scarecrow
It’s almost Halloween
Scarlet sociopath gardens
Blooming their scattered limbs
In manicured yards
I thought these people were middle class liberals
Bill Blass, Ralph Lauren
Atty is waging a nap-strike
Singing horn bill horn, his pants are all torn
And then mi cabeza over and over
He’s two-and-a-half and he’s going to be
A sexy, sparkly witch
And there’s nothing we can or want
To do about it
He’s the future
The future prolongs his opulent sleeplessness
And I secretly want him to become an engineer
But he’ll probably just become a famous actor
Or worse, a poet
The future is making declarations and practicing her cackle
I need the future to sleep so I can relax
But the future really doesn’t get tranquility
I should just let the future finish this poem
He says Daddy feels the beautiful rain
He says It’s nighttime in other people’s houses
He says I breathe my dark air
He says I become a merry, scary shepherdess
He says Yellow fire, yellow fire
He says I’m going to shrink to the size of an acorn
He says The white astronaut on the white moon opens the white door
He says Petal shovel
He says My astronaut got some moon on him
He says Mama is a witch because she walks in the alley
He says Daddy is a man because he walks into a house and is not a thing
He says Orca in a carriage full of people
He says I’m bellying away from you
He says You don’t want to call it anything
(from Rad Dads)