[Local events] Reminder: Matthew Cooperman, Aby Kaupang, and Dan Raphael reading, this Sunday May 22

ebhartigan at q.com ebhartigan at q.com
Wed May 18 09:16:39 PDT 2011










Spare Room presents 

Matthew Cooperman 
  
Aby Kaupang   

Dan Raphael 
  
Sunday, May 22 
7:30 pm 

The Waypost 
3120 N. Williams Ave. 
503-367-3182 
$5.00 suggested donation 

www.flim.com/spareroom 
spareroom at flim.com 
  
================================================== 

  
Upcoming Readings 

6/12            Sam Truitt and Sam Lohmann 


6/19            Chris Piuma and Jennifer Bartlett 

7/10            Anne Shaw and Rodney Koeneke 

8/24            Ally Harris and Karla Kelsey 

================================================== 
  
Matthew Cooperman's new book Still: of the Earth as the Ark which Does Not Move  will be released this month from Counterpath Press. He also authored DaZE (Salt Publishing Ltd, 2006), A Sacrificial Zinc (Pleiades/LSU, 2001), and three chapbooks, Still: (to be) Perpetual (dove | tail, 2007), Words About James (phylum press, 2005) and Surge (Kent State University Press, 1999). A founding editor of Quarter After Eight , and poetry editor of Colorado Review , he teaches at Colorado State University in Fort Collins, where he lives with Aby Kaupang and their two children. More at www.matthewcooperman.com www.matthewcooperman.com 
  
Aby Kaupang is the author of  Absence is such a Transparent House  which just came out from Tebot Bach this spring, and Scenic Fences | Houses Innumerable ( Scantily Clad Press, 2009).  Her poems have appeared in  VOLT ,  Verse , Denver Quarterly ,  The Laurel Review, Parthenon West, Aufgabe, 14 Hills, Interim, Caketrain, lo-ball  and others .  She lives in Fort Collins, Colorado, and is currently pursuing her MS in Occupational Therapy.  More on her work is at www.abykaupang.com/ 
  

Dan Raphael is a Portland poet whose new book  Impulse & Warp:  The Selected 20th Century Poems , came out in September 2010. Impulse & Warp includes poems from his first 13 collections. In addition, Children of the Blue Supermarket, a CD of live performance with saxophonist Rich Halley and drummer Carson Halley, came out in February of this year. Current poems appear in Rattapallax, Otoliths, Calibanonline, Heavy Bear and Skidrow Penthouse.     
    

  



  

  

Still: Reality 

  

  

Consider: set in stone, written in blood, burned into memory 

  

Consider: movement exactly, across pages and their waves, slight reverberations 

             in the malleus and incus, innumerable forms mean and functioning 

  

Consider: sampling as the additive portion of memory, a space forced open 

            between vocal and instrumental culture 

  

Consider: the fiction of memory, the faction of memoir, risible views and shades on 

            the faces of flyers, genre, what the fuck, this really happened 

  

Consider: the flyers in the face of the screen, some distant island they are flying to 

            and from, his anger and her lust, his dark secret and her nightingale 

  

Consider: a consumable product like a very big pill, you have been dreaming a dj 

  

Consider: by necessity, by proclivity and by delight, consider by divining, by chelation 

            and by despair 

  

Consider: signals, like hoisting a flag, something in the forearms (lactic Eygptian), 

            and the smell of sea (her just washed hair) 

  

Consider: a colony, what is a colony, what is a child, what is a crime, a muddied diaper, 

            a soiled well, a proffered pen, a routed man 

  

Consider: his asceticism, which is alternating, which seems also to govern his view 

            of the declining narrative 

  

Consider: something still for someone to somehow link them together, you have 

            been waiting, it doesn’t speak on your behalf, you have been troubled, there 

                        is no reducible bullet 

  

Consider: the whole broad omnevolent thing, the essay and the furrier, licentious 

            hundred flowering into crease and view 

  

Consider: a clarion is a brief horn of chance, Smith was a martyr and Jones a tin horn, 

            it doesn’t speak, you have been troubled, this doesn’t make up ‘a reality’ 

  

  

 --Matthew Cooperman 

  

  

  

the wraithlike invitation into Nothingness 

  

creeps in on me     fingers 

slow fingering me 

  

someone exactly placed it 

on my bruised palm’s doormat 

  

I called it rhapsodic 

improvisational 

  

            since then     

            I’m anxious always 

  

always the fatigue     that snatch of rapture 

the one I      as part of all fleshes 

suffer     it’s accompanied 

  

I accompany it everywhere 

  

two voices call me 

nescio…..et excrucior 

  

  

  --Aby Kaupang 

  



  

(from Fresh Down the Mountain) 

4) 

cities are where dead things come—salmon, beaver, timber, business, politics. 

we cant all be pyramids. we live higher up with nothing to mow or feed. 

where their bus died they settled on 10 acres. you dont choose a house 

you reach into the bag of now, markets are the constructs of abstract money, 

as if a third of my body doesn’t have bones only momentum and belief 

the investment of habit , 

    I didn’t think the door would close that easily 

when I fell asleep I had no idea the room would move. 

  

its perfect here, milky way at night, with one microscopic cacophony of neon 

halfway eclipsed by the petrified wind, so I know its still now in america 



--Dan Raphael 

  

Dan Raphael is a Portland poet whose new book  Impulse & Warp:  The Selected 20th Century Poems , came out in September 2010. Impulse & Warp includes poems from his first 13 collections. In addition, Children of the Blue Supermarket, a CD of live performance with saxophonist Rich Halley and drummer Carson Halley, came out in February of this year. Current poems appear in Rattapallax, Otoliths, Calibanonline, Heavy Bear and Skidrow Penthouse.     
    

  



  

  

Still: Reality 

  

  

Consider: set in stone, written in blood, burned into memory 

  

Consider: movement exactly, across pages and their waves, slight reverberations 

             in the malleus and incus, innumerable forms mean and functioning 

  

Consider: sampling as the additive portion of memory, a space forced open 

            between vocal and instrumental culture 

  

Consider: the fiction of memory, the faction of memoir, risible views and shades on 

            the faces of flyers, genre, what the fuck, this really happened 

  

Consider: the flyers in the face of the screen, some distant island they are flying to 

            and from, his anger and her lust, his dark secret and her nightingale 

  

Consider: a consumable product like a very big pill, you have been dreaming a dj 

  

Consider: by necessity, by proclivity and by delight, consider by divining, by chelation 

            and by despair 

  

Consider: signals, like hoisting a flag, something in the forearms (lactic Eygptian), 

            and the smell of sea (her just washed hair) 

  

Consider: a colony, what is a colony, what is a child, what is a crime, a muddied diaper, 

            a soiled well, a proffered pen, a routed man 

  

Consider: his asceticism, which is alternating, which seems also to govern his view 

            of the declining narrative 

  

Consider: something still for someone to somehow link them together, you have 

            been waiting, it doesn’t speak on your behalf, you have been troubled, there 

                        is no reducible bullet 

  

Consider: the whole broad omnevolent thing, the essay and the furrier, licentious 

            hundred flowering into crease and view 

  

Consider: a clarion is a brief horn of chance, Smith was a martyr and Jones a tin horn, 

            it doesn’t speak, you have been troubled, this doesn’t make up ‘a reality’ 

  

  

 --Matthew Cooperman 

  

  

  

the wraithlike invitation into Nothingness 

  

creeps in on me     fingers 

slow fingering me 

  

someone exactly placed it 

on my bruised palm’s doormat 

  

I called it rhapsodic 

improvisational 

  

            since then     

            I’m anxious always 

  

always the fatigue     that snatch of rapture 

the one I      as part of all fleshes 

suffer     it’s accompanied 

  

I accompany it everywhere 

  

two voices call me 

nescio…..et excrucior 

  

  

  --Aby Kaupang 

  



  

(from Fresh Down the Mountain) 

4) 

cities are where dead things come—salmon, beaver, timber, business, politics. 

we cant all be pyramids. we live higher up with nothing to mow or feed. 

where their bus died they settled on 10 acres. you dont choose a house 

you reach into the bag of now, markets are the constructs of abstract money, 

as if a third of my body doesn’t have bones only momentum and belief 

the investment of habit , 

    I didn’t think the door would close that easily 

when I fell asleep I had no idea the room would move. 

  

its perfect here, milky way at night, with one microscopic cacophony of neon 

halfway eclipsed by the petrified wind, so I know its still now in america 



--Dan Raphael 

  

            
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