July 10, 2011

Rodney Koeneke and Queequeg (Comiskey/Tranum)

Sunday, July 10th, 7:30

Open Space Cafe
2815 SE Holgate


$5.00 suggested donation

Rodney Koeneke
is the author of Musee Mechanique (BlazeVOX, 2006), Rouge State (Pavement Saw, 2003), and a chapbook, Rules for Drinking Forties (Cy Press, 2009). His work has appeared in Abraham Lincoln, Fourteen Hills, The Hat, The Nation, New American Writing, Peaches and Bats, The Poetry Project Newsletter, Try!, and ZYZZYVA, among others, and anthologized in Bay Poetics and Flarf: An Anthology of Flarf. The blog, Modern Americans, has seen better days, but nearly 250 poetry books and counting are micro-reviewed on Goodreads. Diasporized from San Francisco, he's lived in Portland, Ore. since 2006.

Daniel Comiskey is a member of Interrupture, a group of experimental poets that performs text compositions structured as a game.  With C.E.Putnam, he is coauthor of Crawlspace, a book-length poem + audio companion CD.  His work was included in the Seattle Writers Issue of Golden Handcuffs Review.

Ryan Tranum fronts "Lou-Lou," a beloved electronic music project.  Its colors range from orange to brown.  He also goes under the alias "DJ Cookie Pants."

For Queequeg, their new collaborative project, Tranum and Comiskey concoct a cocktail of images, beats, exclamatory reports, sound effects and samples, versified zingers, and what not, into a heady mix that will double park its ride in your neocortex--all laid down in real ludic time, so that no two performances would cop to each other as kin.

At the Small Bar in the Embassy


Here's what I said to the desert
when I met it, spruced up and matched with amazing wines
at the small bar in the embassy. A handful of guests had already arrived
and suddenly I wanted to be writing
something about the insides of metal detectors,
about how the desert used to be a river
and wine sloshed against Mars's canals once like surf
in its youth, which was our youth
but we never think to ask it
when the desert is here, with us at the bar,
about its wild era, only after the fois gras has come,
the ambassador's wife gone upstairs with a slim apparatchik
and machines that blow snow
have exhausted themselves
on the desert, which has no other place to go
apparently when you are a desert you are always at home
you are home even here
at the bar
home with machines blowing snow

Rodney Koeneke

from Team Interrupture Project Document #6

I think another rainbow could totally kick this rainbow's ass.
I always thought there was a lot of humor in leftovers.

You can say "I love you" in Helvetica and it might work.
You've got rabbits everywhere inside your body--get 'em out!

He found the ruins of Troy by trusting Homer, the biggest blabbermouth of all.
He drank the Lobster Lover's Beer and now he loves lobsters--but they don't love him.

She thinks Lucretius is pretty much dead in the water.
She really moves that grass around in Blue Hawaii.

We were lounging in our Adirondack chairs, but this time we were in the Adirondacks.
We're just here for the Icelandic buttock wrestling.

They propose an afternoon of falconry.
They flunked photosynthesis.

Queequeg