Kyle Dargan's back in Lewisburg for a reading (tonight) and Q&A (tomorrow). Kyle was a June Poet back in 2002 (has it been five years?), part of an awesome group that included Meg Shevenock, Miriam Greenberg, Matthew Ladd, and some guy named Kevin Gonzalez (love you, Kevin). Kyle's here to give the annual Drew Darrow Memorial Reading, sponsored by the Writing Center and several other folks. He'll be reading tonight in Bucknell Hall at 7:00, and giving his Q&A tomorrow at noon in the WC (I'm sorry to miss it, but I'll be at Lyco).
Kyle's first book, The Listening (Georgia 2004), won the Cave Canem Prize; the University of Georgia Press has just released his second book, Bouquet of Hungers. Here's a wee poem with a Lewisburg connection:
Letter Home I
The town’s trademarks are its streetlamps, two
Of the three orbs droop towards the earth—
Dead insects inside settle at the bottom,
Tragic pupils.
In my ambling I saw the remains
Of a barn—a gentler stop along underground rail
(So reads the sign). I always stumble
Upon these things, like the slave graves
Suffocated by dorms below Mr. Jefferson’s
University. As then, I didn’t know how to be present.
Of course I crossed Tubman, but kept on—
Anxious of what I’d see if I stared too long. Right now
There’s rain, sky left ajar, and the wind slipping
Jabs of lightning splayed within the clouds.
I miss the lanky apartment buildings,
the black-lunged streets,
my sight—through which no one images me twice.
The town’s trademarks are its streetlamps, two
Of the three orbs droop towards the earth—
Dead insects inside settle at the bottom,
Tragic pupils.
In my ambling I saw the remains
Of a barn—a gentler stop along underground rail
(So reads the sign). I always stumble
Upon these things, like the slave graves
Suffocated by dorms below Mr. Jefferson’s
University. As then, I didn’t know how to be present.
Of course I crossed Tubman, but kept on—
Anxious of what I’d see if I stared too long. Right now
There’s rain, sky left ajar, and the wind slipping
Jabs of lightning splayed within the clouds.
I miss the lanky apartment buildings,
the black-lunged streets,
my sight—through which no one images me twice.
2 comments:
Whoa, a second book! That's fantastic. (And, re: the namedrop, did you know Matt's in the 2007 Best New Poets, along with Donika?)
This makes me quite nostalgic. What's up with the June Poets reading @ AWP? I heard a rumor. . .
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