Last night I dreamt about a poem called "Indie Message Board" by Dan Magers. Dan Magers isn't like any poet you know. His aesthetic is young--in the sense that he knows more about the real world than the real world--and simultaneously aged--everything one needs to know about changes so awfully fast. His range of existential hopelessness and sexual promiscuousness/artful deviance conjoins pop culture and hipsterdom in a space of poetry that reassures you that you no longer have to feel guilty about all those weird Youtube videos you watched, that guy's dick you saw hanging out of his dress, or when you touched that sleeping girl's arm in the New Museum. Poetry as Antonioni (the old man said that). Poetry Foucault. Poetry as a long party. Poetry as Ecstasy, post-Ecstasy, with a hint of Denis Johnson.
"Indie Message Board" begins with a post by Pwn_X. Pwnage is a gamer sort of term indicating ownership. (I'm not sure if I pronounced it correctly). (Also, I accidentally said "Message Boards" instead of "Board"). Listen to the poem here:
There's a thread in this poem about being witty, being fast. Who can imitate the hero while "syphildick" is still funny, before it's tragic. Who can turn the next phrase. Then we all have to face our fear. What if all of this is empty: "women were handing him things," the posters ready to be taken down and claimed, and summoning energy. Yet emptiness doesn't grow to The Nothing size: "it should be fine," "the eager month," and "barrenness that announces itself, but isn't there." It's too plentiful to be barren. Dan Magers is reading this Sat., June 6th, right here in Brooklyn and I'm really sad that I can't go.
Possible Concept Outfits Include But Are Not Limited To:
- unicorn t-shirt is all that matters
- hipster librarian
- hipster mom with apron
- craft junkie with stamped, embroidered shoes
- floating ankle skater shorts
- exposed lace somewhere
- hammer pants
- perfectly ripped near all pockets and just above the knee
- dead swan dress
- something zebra striped
- two french braids and a red dress
- cowboy boots plus anything, nothing