Friday, May 7, 2010

Clay Reading Clay

The room in NYC in winter hybridized with a neighbour's living room from early 80s contained 5 people in center at the couches, a few more in the periphery.

Wish I could recall all. The poem was read, long lines perhaps 4 stanzas long, extending into real time of dream.

After a silence a male unfamiliar voice from behind my right puffed. "Too simple."

The person beside the reader said, "let me read it" and he took the reading copy and pulled the 3 red clay tablet sculptures and said, "sure but it reads across the columns too" and pointed to the knobs and limpets and coils and read each with a word horizontally across the two columns. He stopped definitively.

The person who critiqued nodded approvingly.

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