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On November 23rd 2024, I attended the memorial for the poet Jim Cory at the Ethical Society in Philadelphia. Jim was exemplary. He helped younger poets find themselves and get published, and often hosted readings in his apartment that I sometimes attended. Although I lived in New York, at Jim’s and in the social whirl, I got to meet local poets like Anne-Adele Wight and Ryan Eckes, whose work I got to read and know.
It was Anne-Adele and Ryan who organized Jim’s memorial, and even provided along with the wine delicious soft pretzels. Meaningfully, a lot of people were there. There wasn’t an empty chair. When I saw my old friend, Peter Bushyeager, who had come down from New York like I did, I introduced him to Ryan Eckes who I happened to be talking with. Back in New York, a few weeks later, I ran into Peter who told me that he had bought Ryan’s new book, Wrong Heaven Again, and read it. I asked him to write about what he thought and this is what he sent:
“Philadelphia’s my hometown and I became a poet there, nurtured by the hyperactive local poetry community of the ‘70s and early ‘80s. I recently traveled back to the city for a memorial event that honored the late poet Jim Cory. It was my first Philly reading in a very long time and I worried that I might feel disengaged from the current scene. Not to worry. Poetry’s proceeding very nicely there and it has a welcoming vibe. In a city of well-defined neighborhoods, Philly poets occupy their own spacious, supportive neighborhood that encourages new voices. One of them is Ryan Eckes, who I met at the event. Afterwards, I ordered his current book Wrong Heaven Again and was struck by its passion, edgy gallows humor, and what I think of as a particular Philadelphia point of view, a certain toughness that’s offhand and communicates far more than some poets’ performative anger. Eckes wants to help you wake up. He wants you to join him on a brisk walk away from late-capitalism. In “Old Light,” a poem in the book’s last, inspiring section, he offers some advice: ‘the first thing to look for in a suit is your last day of work/how to take it off and for whom/when to slow the line, unchained/melody, real flowers out of pretend/flowers, perfect skull of moon.’ What can I say? Philly rocks!”
In the Vimeo below, Ryan Eckes reads from Wrong Heaven Again. Enjoy.
I’ve just typed out and am including the first two poems and the last poem in Wrong Heaven Again. Again, enjoy.
keeping saint monday
you can always hide in the idea
that no one cares
kick around the desert
waiting for some chin music
to come make it new again
when I think of the years
I think of a line across a page
to erase history & any love
that could gut a house
for good reason
my cold mouth in the wind
like a kite
as I return to work, park
under same hard shadow
where the ear of an organizer
got sliced by ambition
or the police, hard to say
though it’s understood we should
just accept reality, ronald reagan
& mickey mouse are the same
after all, your kids will turn out
fine, unrated & voting
for the rich in the dark
the good life won’t stop
for anyone
there are the tracks
& here is some rope
a rumor of piano
w/keys of brick
in a cellar
to play for funerals
where we’ll finally catch up
& pretend our labor
was our own
so that words are corpses too
& the sermon drones on
canning somehow’s struggle
like a democrat who won’t win
we can play family
until it disappears again
or we can exit the grave
& become something else
just like that, a line across
a page to step over
& a stranger on the other side
to take us in
here, sit down
let me tear this fog
out of your chest
independence day
who made you einstein monday-face
american standard is a brand of toilet
so I just start walking on water
out of respect for pangea
trash gets picked up
i mean if you’re going to be a nobody
have some class about it
shake up the pepsi
before you hand it to the scab
when the woodwork crawls out of you
don’t come licking my step
because your leadership pills are gone
father of the year is taking questions
quick sip delivery nods in clouds
tell self-checkout I said hi
our bus is here
crack that baby open
deep cuts
could be worse said the father to the son
could be worse said the the patient to the doctor
could be worse said the wine to the sofa
could be worse said the soda to the fries
could be worse said the starter to the reliever
could be worse said the the desert to the lover
could be worse said darth vader to karl marx
could be worse said the communist to the anarchist
could be worse said the milk to the juice
could be worse said the clock to the fan
could be worse said the cloud to the kite
could be worse said the page to the writer
could be worse said the guard to the library
could be worse said the cat to the cowboy
could be worse said the ropes to the wrestler
could be worse said the sun to the sunflower
could be worse said the soldier to the teacher
could be worse said the homework to the pay cut
could be worse said the pavement to the porn star
could be worse said the trash to the parking meter
could be worse said the the cash to the cactus
could be worse said the earth to the song
could be worse said the train to the trees
could be worse said the trees to the bees
could be worse said the beach to the teeth
could be worse said the squirrel to the nut
could be worse said the wire to the weeds
could be worse said the skater to the hater
could be worse said the cooler to the cough drop
could be worse said the gum to the bum
could be worse said the diner to the donut
could be worse said the bagel to the beaver
could be worse said the road to the prison
could be worse said the map to the dream
could be worse said what’s what to who-dun-it
could be worse said the slinky to the barbie
could be worse said the wiffle bat to the garbage pail kid
could be worse said the toilet to the plunger
could be worse said the beer to the reader
could be worse said the home run to the upper deck
could be better, I said to my friend
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Wrong Heaven Again is published by Birds, LLC. You can check it out here:
https://www.birdsllc.com/
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You can hear Cory, Eckes and Wight reading their poems and read along as well in the blog posts below.
Jim Cory reads from 25 Short Poems
Ryan Eckes reads Old News accompanied by Daniel Yorty
Anne-Adele Wight reads from An Internet of Containment