Episode 102: Aging Tantric Pornstars
b"Join us as we consider a pack of poems by Pier Wright, and the complexities of pacing, prosody, and narrative poems with strange and powerful images: memory, tenderness, a \\u201cmagnificent young moose,\\u201d & the magic of being caught in the act. Kathleen \\u201cGratitude\\u201d Volk Miller, champion explicator and advocate for gratitude and neuroplasticity, analyzes the \\u201csmall pointy hats of hope\\u201d as lovers entwine. Jason \\u201cGorgeous Vectors\\u201d Schneiderman loves sticky collisions. Gabby and Alex and the crew ponder happy endings and surprises that feel like \\u201cObjective correlatives,\\u201d slushies. Spoiler: Marion \\u201cSunshine\\u201d Wrenn makes an appearance from future past, or future perfect, or\\u2026something like that. It all makes a great story.\\xa0\\nSlushies, what is your \\u201cembarrassing at the moment but will be funny later\\u201d story?\\xa0\\n\\xa0\\nThis episode is brought to you by one of our sponsors, Wilbur Records, who kindly introduced us to the artist\\xa0 A.M.Mills, whose song \\u201cSpaghetti with Loretta\\u201d now opens our show.\\xa0\\nPier Wright attended Kalamazoo College where he was influenced by the poetry of Con Hilberry and later by that of Diane Seuss. The first poetry reading he ever attended, and has never forgotten, was Robert Bly reading from Silence In The Snowy Fields. He received a Post-Baccalaureate & Masters degree from The Art Institute of Chicago. As a student he discovered Fairfield Porter, Monet\\u2019s large Water Lilly paintings at at Mus\\xe9e de l'Orangerie, Terry Winters, Mary Heilmann, Philip Guston\\u2019s late paintings, Giotto, Noguchi, etc.. Influences include Prayer Wheels, Marie Howe, Chris Martin, Peter Matthiessen, Stephen Dunn, John Cage, Ornette Coleman, Joni Mitchell, Phyllida Barlow, the ceramic work of Toshiko Takaezu, and, most recently, the writings of C.D. Wright. While living as a hermit for several years at the end of a peninsula in N Michigan he began working with Michael Delp. He has been the director of Wright Gallery since 2002 and is recently married.\\nSocials: \\xa0Instagram is pierdwright, Facebook is Pier Wright, and website is pierwright.net (paintings)\\n\\xa0\\n\\n\\xa0\\nDriveway Poem\\n\\xa0\\nwe arrived early at the house by the subshop\\nafter the bar closed\\nit was cold and being new at love\\nthe only way we thought to keep warm\\nwas by undressing completely, with great urgency\\nin the front seat of the Ford\\nthen my foot got stuck in the horn\\njust as our friends began arriving\\nwe couldn\\u2019t have left even if we\\u2019d wanted to\\nwith all the cars having parked behind us\\nso we went to the party anyway\\nme with my shoes untied\\nyou unfolding yourself from the car like a magnificent young moose\\nthe night sky on one side of you and the stars over there\\nthe way you had of entering a room back then\\nas though by just walking the muddy path to the stoop\\na lotus popped out\\n\\n\\xa0\\nGratitude\\n\\xa0\\nwhat was once impotent in me\\nremains in this fiery house\\non a small lot, crap lawn\\nevery roughed grief\\nthe small pointy hats of hope\\nred hibiscus bushes wilting in a row\\nthe heat slicked fur of a sleeping hound\\na house made not of things\\nbut the relationship between things\\nsuch as the desire two bodies have\\nwhen flying blindly toward each other\\nat incredible speed\\nso, when I ask if I can make you breakfast\\nwhat I mean is, I am thankful you are finally here\\n\\n\\xa0\\nThe Hibiscus, Key West\\n\\xa0\\nwe shared thin, raw, slices of tuna,\\nconch salad, cracked stone crab claws,\\ndrank dark rum, tripped over the noisy chickens\\non our way to your room.\\ndrank more rum from plastic cups,\\nthen a table broke, the matching chair in pieces,\\nwaltzing together across worn linoleum\\nlike aging Tantric porn stars.\\nwaking to Cuban coffee, I remember eggs,\\nwhile waiting for a bus to Miami\\nyou wrote your number on a napkin.\\nI tried calling several times,\\na memory persistent as the fly banging\\non this kitchen door screen.\\n\\n\\xa0\\nMother\\u2019s Day\\n\\xa0\\nwhat a day in the garden\\npulling out the knotweed\\nthe clover and spurge\\nforgiving you for leaving so soon\\nthe way they cut your head open\\nI recall a dream\\nI find you in a dumpster it\\u2019s hot\\nyour bones are mi"