It is a long poem (25 sections, written in Swansea, Wales, between 2009 and 2011).
There are many threads within the poem, but one of the main threads is: how does the human mind absorb something as vast as climate change? There is an introduction that explains how the poem developed and what it is about.
One of the sections hearkens back to my time at Naropa, in Andrew Schelling’s Eco-poetry class, when we went on a tour of Rocky Flats (before it was turned into a combined superfund site and wildlife refuge).
Bio: I am the author of a novel, A Fish Trapped Inside the Wind (Parthian Books, 2011) and two books of poetry, On the Side of the Crow (Hanging Loose Press, 2006) and All the Beautiful Dead (Bitter Oleander Press, 2016).
In celebration of National Poetry Month, the Jack Kerouac School of Disembodied Poetics presents Something on Paper, an online literary / multimedia poetics journal.
The third issue has dropped and features lectures by Lisa Jarnot and Dorothy Wang; interviews with Kevin Killian and Laura McCullough; a round table discussion on Sewing is Writing is Body is Sewing with Elena Berriolo, Jan Johnson, Jill Magi, and Rachel May; investigations by Teresa Carmody, Jill Darling, Richard Froude, Miranda Mellis, Jai Arun Ravine, Andrea Rexilius, and Matt Wedlock; as well as cover art by Liz Acosta. And so much more!
Much appreciation to our editorial board and the innumerable JKS / Naropa students, faculty, staff, and alumni, who contributed reviews, articles, interviews, transcriptions, tech support, event support, website design, video recording and closed captioning, etc.
The Operating System has announced its 2015 catalogue, which includes new work by JKS alumna Amanda [Ngoho] Reavey.
“Amanda [Ngoho] Reavey has written a diasporic work that deals with loss, healing and place in a complex and deeply engaged way. What is a page, both before and after a radical fire? What does it mean to come to writing again as to life? Reavey answers these questions with an urgency… and feeling that is pressed through many languages and her many attempts to breathe, create, survive, think and be.”
– Bhanu Kapil
Amanda [Ngoho] Reavey’s first book, Marilyn, began as an exploration through somatic experiments on what it means to stay and became a fragmented map of the immigration system, the international adoption process, and family. How do you articulate disenfranchised grief? How does a person who has no origin write herself into existence? What happens when all you have left is, as Sarita Echavez See says, ‘the body to articulate loss’?
Framed by a return trip to the Philippines in 2011, her first time back since leaving, Reavey takes the most intense images [real, imagined, dreamed] encountered while living in-between six different countries, and expunges them in attempt to stitch the Asian, diasporic body. The result is an ancestral line, a path back not to the beginning of life nor just before, but rather to the primordial. To ancestral roots. To orality: a name.
From the Foreward:
“In fall 2013, Andy Fitch, then editor at The Conversant, suggested I put together a chapbook based on my “pedagogy of conversation.” Although I had been initiating interviews between my students in the Jack Kerouac School at Naropa University and a writer or critic whose work I had assigned, I had thought of these interviews as primarily an instructional tool. Inviting writers to visit a class is not an uncommon practice for an instructor, especially on Colorado’s Front Range, where the environment is rich with both writing programs and established writers. For some time, I’ve been taking
advantage of my friendships with and connections to published writers by assigning their work and then either inviting them to class or organizing email interviews. Many of these interviews landed at The Conversant after the poet Chris Martin suggested we publish our fall 2012 interview there. Only recently have I begun to see those practices as a pedagogy.”
J’Lyn Chapman’s essays and prose poems have been published in Conjunctions, Fence, Sentence, and American Letters & Commentary, among other journals. Calamari Press published the chapbook, Bear Stories. An essay derived from her doctoral dissertation on W.G. Sebald was recently published in Picturing the Language of Images. She is Core Candidate Assistant Professor in the Jack Kerouac School at Naropa University in Boulder, Colorado and edits the online poetics journal Something on Paper.
Elyse Brownell’s Sinkhole is an exploration of vulnerability, a journey into the depths of the soul through songs of mourning and loss. Follow her into (w)hole(ness). Here is gravity. There is light.
Here’s what’s being said about Sinkhole:
“Elyse Brownell’s Sinkhole is a poem-study of loss and the holes that define it (and us, more than we might like to admit). The poem moves in branching directions simultaneously and feels its way as present becomes past and remains an ache of absence in the next present. As the poem looks further into these holes, time opens, and the assumption that ‘there is a bottom to memory’ becomes questionable.”
“There is a kind of writing or writer that is about living on the edge of what wants to be written: without reserve. Elyse Brownell went to the perimeter or brink of a sinkhole, for example, and lay down. What happens when you touch the inside of something that has no outside? How do you return? Jack Kerouac would have loved this book, I think. I did. It is a book from the heart, for you—and anyone else who wants to live wildly and all at once.”
Award winning poet Michelle Naka Pierce is the author of eight titles, including Continuous Frieze Bordering Red (Fordham, 2012), awarded the Poets Out Loud Editor’s Prize, and She, A Blueprint (BlazeVOX, 2011), with art by Sue Hammond West. She is the editor of Something on Paper, the online poetics/multimedia journal and curated the inaugural [DIS]EMBODIED POETICS conference. Pierce is professor and dean of the Jack Kerouac School of Disembodied Poetics at Naropa University. Born in Tokyo, Japan, she has lived in Albuquerque, Austin, Yokohama, London, and currently lives outside of Boulder with the poet Chris Pusateri.
Yasamin Ghiasi received her MFA from the Milton Avery Graduate School of the Arts at Bard College and her BA from the Jack Kerouac School of Disembodied Poetics. Her work has appeared in several journals, including Bombay Gin, Monkey Puzzle, and Fuzzle Against Junk. She is the author of Stalker, a chapbook in conversation with Tarkovsky’s deep materialism (Three Weeks Press, 2012). She is the recipient of the Margaret Randall Poetry Prize from the Academy of American Poets. Ghiasi is a mother, poet, and lives with her daughter in Boulder, CO.