June 29, 2010
It was a stage set with a singer on one side, a poet on the other. I listened to the song that tasted like a strawberry and found myself entranced at the poem that made me freeze and had an aftertaste of swiss cheese.
In the past, I’ve found that when I read two poems in sequence, they are often unexpectedly magnified with the collision of two poem’s words inside my mouth or head. The often unexpected, yet magnificent crash. The way it feels when you put down a book and carry its message into the immediate movement of life.
At the WYEP studio tonight, there was a call-and-response type concert between the singer Joy Ike and the poet CM Burroughs. Both are local Pittsburgh artists and gorgeous women, and both have the capability of filling a room with sounds that echo across ears with the insight of each somehow amplified by the other. I could have kept listening until I was drenched.
You’ve watered them already, he says.
I water them again. I water them
until each leaf is weighed with
water, until each stem drowns from