I miss working sound with Laurie Schneider and Bill DiMichele, co-founders of SCORE the mag and SCORE the sound poetry trio. "Do To Go" was one of our first poems and, because it offered continuity (performance can be more or less repeated) with plenty of room for improvisation, it just might have been one of our best.
The poem below, "The Last Poem," is the center spread of J. M. Calleja's chapbook of visual poems, Altri (Offerta Speciale Visual Editions, 2004). Is it or is it not the last poem? If it's not, what will the last poem look like? Will it look back at its reader? Will either blink, flinch, feint/faint? Does the last poem require a reader to be the last poem? Is the last reader of poetry a poem herself? Can a poem last?
Gather All Ye Aesthetes on the Shore of the Waters of the Quotidian to Bathe and Sup in the Complete and Incomplete Actions of the Author in the Year of Our Hoard 2015.
Not Since the Parting of the Red Sea has Humankind been Graced with this Magnitude of Incremental Movement in Time and Space. Not since Hyperbole was Conceived and Birthed and Bolstered by the Rhetorical Demands of All Time.
Watch in Amazement as 100s of Characters Appear and Disappear, Struck Through or Not, 100s of Actions Completed and Some Not.