nikki REIMER + jonathon WILCKE
Saturday May 12, 2:00 pm
Kootenay School of Writing
237 Keefer, #245
Rumours have it that Nikki and Jonathon are moving back to Calgary. If those rumours are true, you won’t want to miss this chance to hear them read together in Vancouver.
“humans are redundant,
so don’t worry
about the money,”
he says. look
at the ants. one & one & one the ants
haul harvest in pincer jaws. look
at the library. the library
is many things to many people. staring
through me, through you, from
the surface of her billboard, at
her paycheque, not
into the bedroom of your eyes.
does knowing about the paycheque
restore ogling to a kind of anthropological humanism
in the outsider’s point of view. of bits of plants.
of crumbs. a beetle head, left antenna torn away.
of a discarded sheath from cat claw. of plastic.
molded, powered, & owned
under payment plan. the insider’s p.o.v.
sees the bills weighted down on the desk
by the weighty materiality of a thing-in-itself.
Jonathon Wilcke is a saxophonist, writer, and poetry scholar. His music ranges through strict compositions, notational compositions, free and/or structured improvisation, text-sound, vocal accompaniment, and “soundnoisemaking.” Wilcke has published two trade books of poetry, Dupe! (Line Books Fall 2010) and Pornograph(Red Deer Press 2004). Wilcke works in three areas of poetry: page-based writing extending from the Zukofsky-Stein-Oppen-Tish-L=A=N=G=U=A=G=E-KSW trajectory; “musico-poetics:” the recombinatorial composition and arrangement of poetic language with music, and a solo-improvisatory approach for simultaneous voice and saxophone.
childhood remains/a noun we cannot touch. there are no limits to this catchment zone. you said zone to refer to many things; primarily thematic delineations. what remains are shards of bone. dead boy mix tapes. scraps of cloth hugged into animal shapes. somewhere a bridge might house the things we left behind. then again, semiotics may no longer prove useful; light may no longer burn within. earlier we performed repairs using needle and thread, torn cloth, grandfather’s used underwear. however, this was not the correct material to fix every tear, and you had a bus to catch. i tried to remind you when it wasn’t our stop. all my emails were sent too late to be of use. wifi is unreliable where you’re going. they used the same stuffing to fill your shirt inside grandfather’s sweater; shaking means the material is working. stuff it down into the holes so that no material is wasted. the first year onboard i made many errors, but after each mistake you helped me clean my tears off the console. we’re all suffering electrical defects of a kind. if only i’d kept those drawings, if only i’d mailed you that belt. i continue to listen to the music you sent, but even backwards there are no hidden messages. every sickness is more severe than the last. i don’t know what happened to those plastic glasses you used to wear. i am using the word ‘matter’ to refer to the physicality of the object. the creatures only stare at me and don’t make a sound.
Nikki Reimer is author of the poetry book [sic] (Frontenac House 2010); shortlisted for the Gerald Lampert Memorial Award; and the chapbooks that stays news (Nomados Press 2011), haute action material (Heavy Industries 2011) and fist things first (Wrinkle Press 2009). Reimer is past Editor of Van City Kitty and contributor to the Vancouver Book Club on Vancouverisawesome.com, and past Managing Editor of EVENT Magazine. Poetry, artwork and criticism has appeared in Lemon Hound, Quill & Quire, Talonbooks MetaTalon,The Capilano Review, SubTerrain, Capitalism Nature Socialism, Branch, Dear Sir, Dandelion, Poetry is Dead, West Coast Line, Matrix, Front, PRISM International, Uppercase Magazine, This Is East Van, and at SFU’s Teck Gallery (Vancouver) and Studio22 (Kingston). A second poetry manuscript is forthcoming, eventually. She lives online at reimerwrites.com.