#cantwaitfor2012 @kaitrokowski
Me at WOWPS 2011, Columbus Ohio.
Photo by the incomparable Jonathan Weiskopf
True Life: I am Kait Rokowski
Spencer Retelle is currently singing “some place only we know” in the shower.
#theluckiestgirlintheworld
one of my favorite poems written by one of my favorite poets written about another one of my favorite poets. my life is too layered. i should write about it.
My friend Kait is the type of person who shows up on your fucking stoop at 3am. Smokes your weed, sleeps on your couch. Then misses the goddamn bus out in the morning.
My friend Kait is the type of person who pours whiskey into red wine and then names the new concoction after herself.
My friend…
Mary Taibs. NYC-Urbana WOWps qualifier - Diva Slam. Bowery Poetry Club. New York City. January 4, 2011.
LOVE THIS WOMAN.
No Gravity
This is something i am very very excited to share. its taken a few weeks to pull off. the official video for No Gravity. Thanks to Sean Gallagher for the film/editing work and Thom O’Connor for the music.
please share.
too inspiring.
Spencer Retelle tries to construct a manuscript, first attempt
Hey all. So since I’m trying to do that whole poetry thing… I’m auditing a class at Mac to workshop and draft a final project of creative writing. This is the first poem of my second draft. If you are interested in reading more, and/or helping me make it an even more amazing collection, YOU KNOW MY NAME YOU KNOW MY DIGITS. So I believe in not writing disclaimers. Just to drop a context hint: These are all story poems from the perspective Dorothy (from the Wizard of Oz)’s son, David, and his dark excursion back to mother’s fantasy.
Working title: Monsters in Technicolor. . David There was always something about the clouds. My great auntie Emily tells me it’s from my mom. Even though her irises were browner, bigger than a cow’s. Staring skyward so much as a little girl, my eyes became the color of cumulus. All airy and blue. . My pupils closing fast like fists looking into the sun, I wonder how it looks seeing buildings taller than two stories, besides farms. Brick red wood skyscrapers, scattering the horizon like cardinal directions on a compass. Sticking straight up, they lead . the way back home.
Yesterday during morning group time we sang a song about firefighters (or, as one kid calls them, “fighterfighters”), prompting about half the class to declare that they wanted to be firefighters when they grew up. I then asked some of the other kids what they might want to be:
-“A cowgirl!”
-“A…
22 (day 10) always wanted a little brother
22 (day 10) is the youngest child. Beside his sister, he has an older brother that is eight and a half years older than him.
22 (day 10) knows he was probably a mistake.
22 (day 10) spent most of his childhood being the tortured, rather than the torturer.
22 (day 10) remembers wishing there was another little fucker running around. Another one to overthrow the powers that be, whether they be in sibling or parent form.
22 (day 10) has decided to adopt a Vietnamese child. He’s 20 years old. And already knows how to drive himself.
22 (day 10) loves having a little brother, and loves letting him win mario kart.
