Tuesday, September 25, 2018, 6:30 pm
535 West 22nd Street, 5th Floor
New York City
Readings in Contemporary Poetry curator, Vincent Katz provided an introduction for the evening's reading.
Free for Dia members; $10 general admission; $6 admission for students and seniors
This event has reached capacity. Advance reservations are no longer available. Walk-up tickets will be available at the door, subject to availability.
Rodney Koeneke’s most recent book of poems, Body & Glass, was published by Wave Books in 2018. Other collections include Etruria (Wave Books, 2014), Musee Mechanique (BlazeVOX, 2006), and Rouge State (Pavement Saw Press, 2003). His work has appeared in the Brooklyn Rail, Fence, Granta, Harper’s, Harriet, Nation, Poetry, Zyzzyva, and elsewhere. An early member of the Flarf collective, he was active in the San Francisco Bay Area poetry scene until he moved in 2006 to Portland, Oregon, where he teaches in the history department at Portland State University.
Adherent of storms
weather, how you
sleep where ashes
are blowing. I bring
my small light
that kids use
for comfort, pull up
the ratty quilts until
what isn’t closer doesn’t
matter—night the executrix
is burning but is
that right, blue
Fred Moten teaches in the department of performance studies at New York University. His most recent work is the trilogy consent not to be a single being, which was published by Duke University Press in 2017–18. He and Stefano Harney are authors of All Incomplete, forthcoming next year from Minor Compositions/Autonomedia. In 2018 Moten received the Roy Lichtenstein Award from the Foundation for Contemporary Arts and was named a United States Artists Writing Fellow.
(an illuminated etymology) from come on, get it!
1690s, originally an art criticism term, "assemblage of figures or objects forming a harmonious whole in a painting or design," from French groupe "cluster, group" (17c.), from Italian gruppo"group, knot," which probably is, with Spanish grupo, from a Germanic source, from Proto-Germanic *kruppaz"round mass, lump, with an awkward dangling of sticks, a brutal angling of brushes," part of the general group of Germanic kr-words with the sense “rounded mass" (such as crop (n.), the roundness burred, vibed, pleated with ascots, bitter, like a sheaf of rabe or a rubbed rawness of the general sheaf. Extended to "any assemblage, a number of individuals related in some way" by 1736. Meaning "pop music combo" is from 1958 and numberless, neverones, a one and a two and a bridge. Round ass lump or lumpen is from 1976. Lumpen from lumen, or inside lip, a unit of luminous flux trilled in superfluid kisses, from an influenza of switches (such as crew (adv.). A broken way people be turning and sharply butterflying.
Readings in Contemporary Poetry: An Anthology