by Natalie diSanto
our uncomfortable shoes on the wood floor
stomp, s-s-stomp, stomp s-s-stomp
by Carolann Clark
About 3 o’clock
(I know you’re awake by now)
I send you this message:
“Played hooky today
I am wearing a purple hat”
Later, I’ll go down to Suburban Station
and pull down the plaster
that hangs from the ceiling
like one great big orange peel.
In this new monthly column, PHILADELPHIA POETRY, Leonard Gontarek selects and introduces some of our city’s most praiseworthy poets. For March, Gontarek discusses Stephen Berg’s “Crosses.”
Outloud is a monthly column on spoken word, Philly lit, and the nature of the universe spit one stanza at a time. Views here are not necessarily held by APIARY and its staff. Talk is cheap. Thirst is everything. Longmire.
In an interview on the newly reconstituted Arsenio Hall Show, Donald Glover was asked about his recent decision to leave the cast of Community. The response was blasé. He shrugged. Other things to do. Of personal interest to me was his reaction to word that he was leaving, specifically, to rap.
“Really, rapping is just something I do. Nobody WANTS to be a rapper. Every rapper I talk to is just an artist who wants to do a lot of other stuff.”
Most artists I’ve met in the slam community share in this same love/leave relationship, regardless of genre. Actors, comedians, motivational speakers and storytellers have all found their place in slam. Nobody is really satisfied with what it is. Everyone has different ideas about what it should be. I personally have left and returned often, never completely able to tear myself away.
THE PHILOSOPHER’S SOUP
By Joanna Grim
Part I: The Soup
He too must eat. The scent of onions frying in butter, the base, the primal flavor that lingers within the broth, lives briefly on the lips. The onion’s subtle kiss. The point of discovery is the moment of loss. The scent of onions frying in butter taunts him, teases him during the hours spent bent over his desk. Shoulders, head, and neck poised over a blank page. Ideas swirl in his mind as the broth turns clockwise, driven by the spoon.