Three Cities, Three Readings: A Poet's Journey Home
How your life changes after publication
Dear Reader,
My life is a episodic whirlwind at the moment. I have times when it’s go-go-go and other times when people forget I exist. There is no middle ground at the moment.
Recently, my life has been the former. In the past two weeks, I’ve done three readings in different locations. There is another in the books. And it has been, well, everything I asked for. I wrote about this in a recent post.
Let’s start with a trip to Austin, Texas where I was invited by Torch Literary Arts to read as part of the Wildfire Reading Series at Resistencia-Red Salmon Bookstore. I’d share pictures of my time there but, a pitfall of course, I have none. When I’m doing these gigs on my own, I have to focus on the gig and I forget to take pictures.
But I did take a selfie!
The reading was so great and I always enjoy reading in Austin. In fact, the last time I read there was for a Torch event. I hadn’t published my book yet and didn’t even have an inkling to publish a chapbook.
This was my first time at Resistencia Bookstore though anyone in the Latino poetry scene knows that name. I loved reading there and being interviewed by Amanda Johnston, the former and current Texas Poet Laurete. The thing I loved about this reading is the coziness with the audience. I wasn’t sure what poems to read but when we got started and interacted more with the audience, I knew exactly what needed to be read.
During the Q and A portion of the reading, Amanda asked an interesting question — comedy in poetry. Even as there was pain in some of my poems there is also the potential for laughter. I don’t remember what I answered but I so appreciated that question and that insight into my work.
A couple of days later, I participated in the reading for the late Tom Postell. This was a last minute thing that came across my email but once I understood the premise. The Unsung Masters Series prints work from lost or forgotten writers. If you haven’t heard of Tom Postell, it’s not your fault. His work isn’t known in the larger poetry circle but he needs to be known. Here’s a bit about him and the work of putting this collection together. Here is a quick bio from the publisher’s website:
Tom Postell, born Thomas Freeman Postell Jr., was a Black American poet born in Cincinnati in 1927 and closely associated with the Beat Generation, Black Mountain School, and Black Arts Movement in New York City's Greenwich Village from 1953 to 1969. A close friend and mentor of poet Amiri Baraka, Postell's circle included musicians like Ornette Coleman and Archie Shepp and fellow poets like Allen Ginsberg and Ted Joans. Hindered by institutionalization, mental health struggles, and substance abuse, Postell disappeared from the literary scene in 1970, leaving a trove of innovative work thought lost upon his death in 1980.
Asterism Books published his work in a collection. Several of us poets were invited to read his work outloud.
The beautiful coincidence is that a friend of mine was also one of the readers. It was a reunion with my friend Julia Brown. We were both Kimiblio Fellows and don’t get together often enough! So it was nice to hear her read and to catch up.
The event was electric. Yes, that is such a cliché thing to write so let me explain. We evoked his spirit, perserving and adding to Black poetic legacy. Reading his work was about honoring someone who never recieved acclaim when they were alive. They never received or had the space so much of us poets today do. What would Tom Postell have done with reading opportunities or published a book when he was alive? Would he have been here longer? How would his work have changed if at all? These questions are left lingering and it was my sincere pleasure to read another poet’s words into air and allow them to live, linger, where they could join all our words.
In this way, the reading felt like initiation.
This reading made me consider what my poetic legacy could be. What did I want to leave behind. Postell was hidden, found and resurrected. How then can I use my poetry to make sure that my fellow poets will always have a home in my words? This is something I’ve been pondering since the reading.
Last but definitely NOT least was the Art and Poetry Prowl, which was on my side of Houston — the East Side.
This one was so personal for me. In all the travel for the book and the promotion, I had yet to read or perform in my neighborhood, my side of this huge city. Even now, as my calendar fills with performances I am driving anywhere from 30 minutes to one hour away to spread the good poetic news. The Art and Poetry Prowl was down the street— 5 minutes — from my house, in a building where so many people from the community have come to fellowship as it was a former church. So reading in my own neighborhood for my own folks was such a highlight.
Again, I didn’t take pictures of myself reading but I have so many of other readers. I’ll share them on my Instagram this week.
For this performance I was the feature and they totally did me a solid by pushing my time back. My sister came to see me! As she was running late, they were so kind to let me go last.
Here what I can say about everyone’s performance — there is talent! We have some talent here in these hot, humid, Houston streets and I am here for it. I want each poet who read to be published! In this way I was reminded again about Postell. I pray that their work reaches out to others within these poets’ lifetimes.
All of these experiences changed me in so many different ways. I am present for all of them meaning that being part of the fiber of American letters looks like open mic nights and reading on a sultry fall night. That for some it looks like banquet award dinners and accolades but for me it’s the pride of reading with/for so many talented writers. And I am grateful that people come by to not only hear me read but to purchase a book or two.
The more I perform, the more I learn about myself as a poet. I enjoy it the most when I can interact with the audience. I find that I am the most authentic when I don’t plan the reading. Sure I have an idea of what poems I’d like to read but I don’t make the final decision until I am there, sometimes when I’m at the mic. There’s something about the vibe of the room, the energy of the audience, the purpose of the reading. The audience determines my pacing, the dip and fall and building of my voice, the rhythm of the piece, when I can push and when I pull back. This is how I have changed as a poet. I have learned a sense of play.
Off to the next reading,
-Icess