Nate Slawson to read in September BONK!

just a quick news flash–Calvin Forbes unfortunately had to cancel on us for this Saturday’s BONK!

However, we are extremely fortunate because Chicago poet Nate Slawson has agreed to fill in for him last minute.  If you don’t know Nate’s work, he’s a great, young poet with an excellent, hypnotic reading style.  Here’s a really short video of him reading on Hyde Park:

As some added info, I just learned that there’s a reading at Carthage College this Thursday also.  The info is below.

See you all on Saturday, if not sooner!

Poetry Reading 9/23 Jared Stanley, 7 pm, Niemann Media Theater, Hedberg LIbrary, Carthage College in Kenosha, WI

Jared Stanley attended the University of California, Berkeley, and the Iowa Writers’ Workshop. His poems have appeared in Conduit, Gutcult, Melancholia’s Tremulous Dreadlocks, horse less review and Zoland Poetry Annual #3, as well as in the chapbooks In Fortune (Dusie Press) and The Outer Bay (Trafficker Press). Book Made of Forest was a finalist for the 2007 Colorado Prize for Poetry. He serves on the faculty of the Writing Program at the University of California, Merced.

Book Made of Forest, winner of the Crashaw Prize and published by Salt Publishing, is “comprised of lyrics, mock journal entries, prose portraits and odes, Book Made of Forest answers the “summons and challenge” of being both human and animal, urban and rural, cultured and philistine, formal and ruinous, willful and acted-upon. Jared Stanley strikes at the absurd thingness of things, rings out their histories, traces their loss in the 6th extinction, figures his voluminous overhearing into poems rhetorical and fragmented, mournful and comedic. People skulk, animals talk, trash multiplies. Contemporary California—it’s art, scavengers, landscapes, weeds, pollution—effects its lyric smudges. Yet Book Made of Forest finds them all inexplicably desirous. For when the weather is found man-made, a function of our emotions, the pathetic fallacy returns, not as a symptom of undue personal imposition onto the landscape, but as the collective by-product of not having any god to blame. Without a deity, Book Made of Forest is the naked almer—”I’ll wear any greeting from dirt, as if a hide”—finding its vision in the midst of things that simply happen.”

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