Jerome Rothenberg

Poems and poetics

Dennis Tedlock: Six more poems from 'Alcheringa'

[On my way to Buffalo to celebrate the life & work of Dennis Tedlock, with whom I founded Alcheringa in 1970 & launched what we were already calling ethnopoetics, I thought to post this selection of his own poems which we were first able to show in the pages of that magazine.

Frank Kuenstler: Two poems from 'The Enormous Chorus,' with an introduction by Michael O’Brien

[In an effort to rescue poems & poets from the last century who may otherwise be lost in the rush & crush of time, I will be reposting a number of works originally published only in the blogger version of Poems and Poetics. The intent of these excerpts from Frank Kuenstler’s oeuvre was to celebrate the publication in 2011 of his posthumous book The Enormous Chorus (Pressed Wafer), by posting Michael O’Brien’s Introduction and two of Kuenstler’s poems.

Nick Cave: Three Poems from Skeleton Tree

[As a follow-up to Barbaric Vast & Wild, the gathering of outside & subterranean poetry that John Bloomberg-Rissman & I assembled several years ago, I’ve been giving further thought to the poetry imbedded in the lyrics of so-called popular song as manifested in particular in the orbit of contemporary blues- and rock-derived singer-poets from Bob Dylan & Leonard Cohen through Patti Smith, Jim Carroll, & Nick Cave, among so many others.

Mauricio Montiel Figueiras: from “The Man in Tweed: The City,” a Twitter-constructed Novel in Progress (with a follow-up note on the process)

Translated from the Spanish by Suzanne Jill Levine

 

On the other side of the street, as if it were on the other side of the ocean, there is a sign: “Café.” The man in tweed waits for the light to change.

 

While he crosses the street, the man in tweed remembers the first time he drank coffee. Another time, another world: a smell of jungle in the steam.

Murat Nemet-Nejat: From 'Animals of Dawn,' with an essay on 'Hamlet & Its Hidden Texts: Poems As Commentary'

            Bait & Switch    

                        “Polonius: What do you read, my lord?”

 

the sculpture                                                    

of the night —

 

dream —                                                           

                  

erodes                                

in the morning

 

words words   words left                                 

 

over the melting                                               

 

dew (the pickpocket).