RAVE REVIEWS FOR THE NO-NET WORLD
Poet Larissa Shmailo doesn't really need a CD of her poetry to prove she's the real deal -- Shmailo is an accomplished poet who's been published in many magazines, journals and reviews. ... Thankfully though, Larissa Shmailo has compiled some of her best work in her new poetry CD, The No-Net World. The No-Net World is a solid collection of Shmailo's intensity, heart and wit. Her poetry is careful, considered, yet powerful. You may be fooled at first by her voice, which lilts like a bird. You may mistake her sweet tone as fragile -- she is far from it, yet still retains a vulnerability that allows her to tap directly into the listener with piercing emotion. Her observations of life and love offer no formality -- she tells it like it is, and sometimes it's gritty.
The album opens with four strong poems, including "In Paran", a dramatic tribal piece that feels ancient and familiar. Shmailo's humor is as sharp as her intensity, this is quickly evident in "For Six Months with You":"For Six Months with You / I would live in Kansas / join a carpool / shave my legs" Though the entire collection is, the best moments come near the end of the CD, first when Shmailo treats us to her own translations of pieces by Russian poets Pushkin and Mayakovsky; then in the most riveting and sobering poem of the collection, "How My Family Survived the Camps" in which the poet deftly recounts her family's history and survival during the Holocaust. The No-Net World takes you on one woman's tour of the globe, combining stark reality with lush hope. I recommend that you go along for the ride.
---LITKICKS.COM
Listening to poet and translator Larissa Shmailo’s latest spoken word CD is almost like attending eighteen short plays in the span of forty minutes. Like the best plays, each poem tells a compelling story of human struggle... Like the best plays, her poems also crackle with breathtaking language, which in the true tradition of the tragedies of which she speaks almost sound as if they could be sung (indeed, in some cases they almost are). Shmailo’s expert understanding of the close relationship between poetry and drama, music and language, and the primal human need to just hear a really, really good story make The No-Net World a truly unique contribution to twenty-first century American poetry, and a CD worth listening to frequently and carefully.
---THEPEDESTALMAGAZINE.com
Larissa Shmailo ...really knows how to write, how to read, how to present her poetry. She is masterful in the wonderfully rhythmic "Johnny I Love You Don't Die"...Shmailo's album is thoughtful, entertaining, and bears repeated listens.
---BOOG CITY
“How My Family Survived the Camps,” [IS] the strongest, the most important poem here, and one which clearly is based on personal (or at least familial) experience, and one which carries great emotional power. In it she describes the combination of luck and ingenuity that enabled her family to survive the Holocaust. The key poem on the CD, it gives by far the best realization of her running theme, that how we react to what happens to us is as important as the events themselves."
---POETIX.COM
Friday, December 22, 2006
Thursday, December 21, 2006
How My Family Survived the Camps
Was micht nicht umbringt, macht mich starker:
What does not kill me makes me stronger.
Nietzsche said this about other things
Not this.
How did my family survive the camps?
Were they smarter, stronger than the rest?
Were they lucky?
Did luck exist in Dora-Nordhausen,
Auschwitz and Bergen-Belsen?
How did my family survive?
They were young, my mother and father, in 1943
Twenty years old when taken as slaves.
No one knew my father was a soldier, a communist
So he was not shot
Or taken to be gassed.
My grandmother said quickly to the Germans
He is a mechanic; they needed mechanics
My grandmother, Soviet businesswoman
Begged and bribed the Ukrainian kapos
Begged and bribed the Germans, not SS
They took my father, son of a commissar
And shot the other men.
How did my family survive?
They offered no resistance
Did they collaborate?
Is complicity possible without choice?
They marched to Germany, working
Following the German army
Following the front
Digging trenches, carrying metal
These were the good camps, Kalinovka, Peremeshl
There was still food:
My mother recalls eating an entire vat of potatoes
Fouled by kerosene, discarded by the Germans, not SS
The treatment was not cruel, comparatively, not cruel:
In 1944, the Germans
Were as afraid of the Russian front
As the prisoners were of Germany
And of the other camps.
Where they went nonetheless
Where they were sent nonetheless.
How did they survive Erfurt, the selection?
My mother spoke good German
I see her now at the staging camp
Her keen wit dancing around the SS
Like her young Slavic feet
She was young and good-looking
Thin but good-looking
And the SS liked the Ukrainian Frauen.
On the cattle car to Dora
To the chimneys of that camp
My mother rode with her family intact
Thinner but intact
And ready for work.
How did my family survive?
Was it luck?
In Dora-Nordhausen
Where the air smelled of shit and gas
Where the sun rose but never shone
Was there luck?
The boxcar stopped
At the Nordhausen factory
The way out through the crematorium chimney in Dora
Here, my grandmother learned languages
Wstavach, Stoi, Ren, Schwein, Halt.
In Dora, where not to understand an order meant death
My grandmother learned six languages; after six months
My family could work, hide and ask for bread
In all the languages of Europe.
They learned English the same way.
How did my family survive?
When the Americans came, with chocolate and blankets
My father, six foot one
Was one hundred and twenty pounds
And still we were rich, my mother interjects,
Rich compared to the Jews.
A few months longer, though, a few months longer
We would not have been alive.
How did my family survive?
My grandfather, a teacher
Told this story:
When the Americans came and saw the camp
They invited the people to loot the nearby towns
Take anything, the well-fed soldiers said
My grandfather stood and spoke: We are not animals, he said
But we were, my father interrupts, we were.
How did my family survive?
Survive is not the right word.
I'm alive, my father would say, alive
Alive because I did not die; others died.
Keep breathing, he encouraged me in difficult times
Keep breathing.
What does not kill me makes me stronger.
Nietzsche said this about other things
Not this.
How did my family survive the camps?
Were they smarter, stronger than the rest?
Were they lucky?
Did luck exist in Dora-Nordhausen,
Auschwitz and Bergen-Belsen?
How did my family survive?
They were young, my mother and father, in 1943
Twenty years old when taken as slaves.
No one knew my father was a soldier, a communist
So he was not shot
Or taken to be gassed.
My grandmother said quickly to the Germans
He is a mechanic; they needed mechanics
My grandmother, Soviet businesswoman
Begged and bribed the Ukrainian kapos
Begged and bribed the Germans, not SS
They took my father, son of a commissar
And shot the other men.
How did my family survive?
They offered no resistance
Did they collaborate?
Is complicity possible without choice?
They marched to Germany, working
Following the German army
Following the front
Digging trenches, carrying metal
These were the good camps, Kalinovka, Peremeshl
There was still food:
My mother recalls eating an entire vat of potatoes
Fouled by kerosene, discarded by the Germans, not SS
The treatment was not cruel, comparatively, not cruel:
In 1944, the Germans
Were as afraid of the Russian front
As the prisoners were of Germany
And of the other camps.
Where they went nonetheless
Where they were sent nonetheless.
How did they survive Erfurt, the selection?
My mother spoke good German
I see her now at the staging camp
Her keen wit dancing around the SS
Like her young Slavic feet
She was young and good-looking
Thin but good-looking
And the SS liked the Ukrainian Frauen.
On the cattle car to Dora
To the chimneys of that camp
My mother rode with her family intact
Thinner but intact
And ready for work.
How did my family survive?
Was it luck?
In Dora-Nordhausen
Where the air smelled of shit and gas
Where the sun rose but never shone
Was there luck?
The boxcar stopped
At the Nordhausen factory
The way out through the crematorium chimney in Dora
Here, my grandmother learned languages
Wstavach, Stoi, Ren, Schwein, Halt.
In Dora, where not to understand an order meant death
My grandmother learned six languages; after six months
My family could work, hide and ask for bread
In all the languages of Europe.
They learned English the same way.
How did my family survive?
When the Americans came, with chocolate and blankets
My father, six foot one
Was one hundred and twenty pounds
And still we were rich, my mother interjects,
Rich compared to the Jews.
A few months longer, though, a few months longer
We would not have been alive.
How did my family survive?
My grandfather, a teacher
Told this story:
When the Americans came and saw the camp
They invited the people to loot the nearby towns
Take anything, the well-fed soldiers said
My grandfather stood and spoke: We are not animals, he said
But we were, my father interrupts, we were.
How did my family survive?
Survive is not the right word.
I'm alive, my father would say, alive
Alive because I did not die; others died.
Keep breathing, he encouraged me in difficult times
Keep breathing.
Thursday, October 19, 2006
BLOOM
I. Je suis une femme de lettres et je gagne ma vie.
─Colette
All ways a feather: bed your bugs as they bud
Welling roses these sweltering days
Rose roaches blooming by books, near pillows
Blooming by Bloomsday, busting out by June
Busting on Broadway, busting the busts…
Hey, this is…my bra!
(Like swallowing feathers, you know,
dirty feathers.)
And this is December and over there, Christmas
We call April Easter cause she makes them march.
Welling roses in Wellington Rolls
Rose roaches blooming by books, near pillows
Rolls with butter, rolls with jam
Roll her over, let’s go hot damn
Sweltering days as rose roaches bloom
Swilling slaves in rose roaches’ room
Bloom, concrete blossoms!
Bloom, Broadway bottoms!
Bloom! Picks his nose
Bloom! As he grows. . . .
Bed your bugs as they bud, as they breed─what a breed!
Ill-bred, no bread
Dirty cunt’s puking
Just giving me head. . . .
All ways are fettered
Fellated and fucked
For ever and all
But mostly for us
II. Foret sans oiseaux
All ways are feathered.
For rest a bed,
For the rest, a bed . . . .
Hey, this is. . . .I know; I’ve had them for years.
I’ve had it. Have you? Been had?
Have you a forest? Have you a bed?
Have you a haven?
(Forests of feathers: naked birds shrieking
Bony birds swooping
Burning birds screaming
Descending like hell)
Blooming rose roaches all buds destroyed
Bony birds bleeding, beating, breaking, bled. . .
For rest, a bed, for rest. . .
Fine-feathered slaughter by books, near pillows
Rose roaches breed,
Bleed swiftly and die.
III. On commence par ệtre dupe, on finit par ệtre fripon.
─George Sand
Always the feathers: hi, I’m Molly Bloom;
Blow by my bathroom . . . .
By the window a frozen bird, frozen for weeks,
A weak bird, a dead duck, a gone goose,
A pigeon petered out. . . .
But I’m Molly Bloom, you’ve had me, you know:
Birds are just chirping snakes.
But I’m Molly Bloom, I’m a mammal,
I have mammaries, see: This is a bust!
I don’t touch dead birds.
This is December, and over there’s Christmas
And Easter will rise to any occasion
For ever and all
For Peter and Paul. . . .
But I’m Molly Bloom, I’m a pagan, you fuck!
Amen
(A man? Where?)
A feather bed for me, a haven for rest,
Pillows for the head, and books for the rest
I need the rest: this is short, where’s the rest?
All ways are fetid
Fellated and fucked
No bird’s no damn good
Until it’s been plucked.
A man? Amen. This is Christmas:
Rest that piece.
─Colette
All ways a feather: bed your bugs as they bud
Welling roses these sweltering days
Rose roaches blooming by books, near pillows
Blooming by Bloomsday, busting out by June
Busting on Broadway, busting the busts…
Hey, this is…my bra!
(Like swallowing feathers, you know,
dirty feathers.)
And this is December and over there, Christmas
We call April Easter cause she makes them march.
Welling roses in Wellington Rolls
Rose roaches blooming by books, near pillows
Rolls with butter, rolls with jam
Roll her over, let’s go hot damn
Sweltering days as rose roaches bloom
Swilling slaves in rose roaches’ room
Bloom, concrete blossoms!
Bloom, Broadway bottoms!
Bloom! Picks his nose
Bloom! As he grows. . . .
Bed your bugs as they bud, as they breed─what a breed!
Ill-bred, no bread
Dirty cunt’s puking
Just giving me head. . . .
All ways are fettered
Fellated and fucked
For ever and all
But mostly for us
II. Foret sans oiseaux
All ways are feathered.
For rest a bed,
For the rest, a bed . . . .
Hey, this is. . . .I know; I’ve had them for years.
I’ve had it. Have you? Been had?
Have you a forest? Have you a bed?
Have you a haven?
(Forests of feathers: naked birds shrieking
Bony birds swooping
Burning birds screaming
Descending like hell)
Blooming rose roaches all buds destroyed
Bony birds bleeding, beating, breaking, bled. . .
For rest, a bed, for rest. . .
Fine-feathered slaughter by books, near pillows
Rose roaches breed,
Bleed swiftly and die.
III. On commence par ệtre dupe, on finit par ệtre fripon.
─George Sand
Always the feathers: hi, I’m Molly Bloom;
Blow by my bathroom . . . .
By the window a frozen bird, frozen for weeks,
A weak bird, a dead duck, a gone goose,
A pigeon petered out. . . .
But I’m Molly Bloom, you’ve had me, you know:
Birds are just chirping snakes.
But I’m Molly Bloom, I’m a mammal,
I have mammaries, see: This is a bust!
I don’t touch dead birds.
This is December, and over there’s Christmas
And Easter will rise to any occasion
For ever and all
For Peter and Paul. . . .
But I’m Molly Bloom, I’m a pagan, you fuck!
Amen
(A man? Where?)
A feather bed for me, a haven for rest,
Pillows for the head, and books for the rest
I need the rest: this is short, where’s the rest?
All ways are fetid
Fellated and fucked
No bird’s no damn good
Until it’s been plucked.
A man? Amen. This is Christmas:
Rest that piece.
Sunday, September 24, 2006
How to Meet and Dance with Your Death (Como Encuentrar y Bailar con Su Muerte): A Cure for Suicide
How to Meet and Dance with Your Death
(Como encuentrar y bailar con su muerte): A Cure for Suicide
This was told to me by an old Curandera, an India from Brazil whom I met in the Yucatan. She gave me this recipe and cautioned me that it could be done once, and only once.
To meet and dance with your Death, take:
2 gallons of pulque (fermented Mayan beverage), or if unavailable, gin
1 case tequila
Several cases beer
1 bottle Mescal
2 ounces good marijuana
carton cigarettes
three large peyotes
coffee as needed
For three weeks, do not eat meat, starch, sweets, or cabbage of any kind. You may have citrus fruits, papaya, watery vegetables, yucca and bacalǻo, salted nuts, cream, and a little halvah.
Drink and smoke everyday, reserving the Mescal and peyote. Smoke the marijuana in silence; drink only when there is music playing and people are dancing; at other times, walk, preferably uphill.
Bailar con fuerza cada dia: dance vigorously every day, either alone or in a group, but never in a couple. Be friendly with the other dancers but dance with no one partner longer than a few moments, and do not stay in one spot as it causes blood clots. Dance until your hair and clothing are entirely wet and your chin tilts upwards naturally.
When you are not dancing, be silent or listen to music, but do not chatter and certainly do not converse. By all means, sing and chant, but do not ululate, because this brings forth unnecessary demons.
When you have finished the pulque and most of the tequila, go to the city. Find two men, one dark and one light; they will be your guides. It is good if you like them, but they must not be your lover—your lover always blocks your view of Death (su amante oscura su vista de la muerte).Go together to an old room and take the peyotes; chop them well and mix them with strawberries and yogurt; the sour will help you not to vomit as much.
An hour after you have taken the peyote, the light-haired man will appear to be asleep. Do not disturb him: He is calling your Death.
Take the hand of the dark man. Ask him where he wants to go, and go with him: He will lead you to your Death.
Follow the dark man until he brings you to a crowd of people. You will see familiar faces in the crowd, family and old friends, but each time you turn to greet them, it will be a stranger. This is where you will meet your Death.
Your Death will be a man who looks like you, a little taller, but with the same color hair and possibly the same nose. He will be wearing a hat. He will appear preoccupied, perhaps agitated. He will be sweating.
You will wonder where he has come from, and whether he is sick. Do not ask. And do not ask him to dance. Wait.
When he sees you, you will feel something just below your hair, or in your nostrils, as if the room suddenly had become very cold, or very quiet. You will hear a song—an unusual but very familiar song—and then both of you will leap to the floor at the exact same moment and begin to dance.
You will dance for a long time and you will never dance better. Death will continue to sweat. As his face begins to shine, you will see beneath his skin and know that you are not dancing with a man, but with Death. After that, you will never fear him again, nor seek him.
When the dancing is over, go somewhere and drink the bottle of Mescal; leave the worm in the bottle for Death.
Do this correctly the first time, because it can not be done more than once. To do this once is sagrado, sacred; to do this more than once is common, so no lo jode. If you do this more than once, you will do it often, and then you will become an old borracha who sleeps with common men. Punto.
(Como encuentrar y bailar con su muerte): A Cure for Suicide
This was told to me by an old Curandera, an India from Brazil whom I met in the Yucatan. She gave me this recipe and cautioned me that it could be done once, and only once.
To meet and dance with your Death, take:
2 gallons of pulque (fermented Mayan beverage), or if unavailable, gin
1 case tequila
Several cases beer
1 bottle Mescal
2 ounces good marijuana
carton cigarettes
three large peyotes
coffee as needed
For three weeks, do not eat meat, starch, sweets, or cabbage of any kind. You may have citrus fruits, papaya, watery vegetables, yucca and bacalǻo, salted nuts, cream, and a little halvah.
Drink and smoke everyday, reserving the Mescal and peyote. Smoke the marijuana in silence; drink only when there is music playing and people are dancing; at other times, walk, preferably uphill.
Bailar con fuerza cada dia: dance vigorously every day, either alone or in a group, but never in a couple. Be friendly with the other dancers but dance with no one partner longer than a few moments, and do not stay in one spot as it causes blood clots. Dance until your hair and clothing are entirely wet and your chin tilts upwards naturally.
When you are not dancing, be silent or listen to music, but do not chatter and certainly do not converse. By all means, sing and chant, but do not ululate, because this brings forth unnecessary demons.
When you have finished the pulque and most of the tequila, go to the city. Find two men, one dark and one light; they will be your guides. It is good if you like them, but they must not be your lover—your lover always blocks your view of Death (su amante oscura su vista de la muerte).Go together to an old room and take the peyotes; chop them well and mix them with strawberries and yogurt; the sour will help you not to vomit as much.
An hour after you have taken the peyote, the light-haired man will appear to be asleep. Do not disturb him: He is calling your Death.
Take the hand of the dark man. Ask him where he wants to go, and go with him: He will lead you to your Death.
Follow the dark man until he brings you to a crowd of people. You will see familiar faces in the crowd, family and old friends, but each time you turn to greet them, it will be a stranger. This is where you will meet your Death.
Your Death will be a man who looks like you, a little taller, but with the same color hair and possibly the same nose. He will be wearing a hat. He will appear preoccupied, perhaps agitated. He will be sweating.
You will wonder where he has come from, and whether he is sick. Do not ask. And do not ask him to dance. Wait.
When he sees you, you will feel something just below your hair, or in your nostrils, as if the room suddenly had become very cold, or very quiet. You will hear a song—an unusual but very familiar song—and then both of you will leap to the floor at the exact same moment and begin to dance.
You will dance for a long time and you will never dance better. Death will continue to sweat. As his face begins to shine, you will see beneath his skin and know that you are not dancing with a man, but with Death. After that, you will never fear him again, nor seek him.
When the dancing is over, go somewhere and drink the bottle of Mescal; leave the worm in the bottle for Death.
Do this correctly the first time, because it can not be done more than once. To do this once is sagrado, sacred; to do this more than once is common, so no lo jode. If you do this more than once, you will do it often, and then you will become an old borracha who sleeps with common men. Punto.
Friday, September 01, 2006
Howl! Fest
SPIRIT OF HOWL! FEST
3 EVENTS! 2 POETRY EVENTS AND 1 MUSICAL EVENT
CONTACT:EKAYANI CHAMBERLIN ekayani2002@yahoo.com (212) 475-6547
BACK UP: Mike McHugh newcenturybooking@yahoo.com (212) 561-9789
WHEN: SATURDAY, SEPTEMBER 16 FROM 5-10 PM
WHERE: SUTRA LOUNGE http://www.sutranyc.com
16 1ST AVE
(BET. HOUSTON & FIRST ST)
PH: (212) 677 9477
$8 ADMISSION GOOD FOR ALL THREE EVENTS
ALSO: THERESA SAREO AT CRASH MANSION 7-10PM 199 BOWERY $10 ADDITIONAL COVER
1. SAT 9/16 7:30 – 10:00: SLIDING SCALE POETRY PRESENTS:
REGIE CABICO-Regie has appeared on MTV’s Def Poetry Jam, PBS’s In the Life, and in over 30 anthologies. http://www.globaltalentassoc.com/site/clients/cabico.htm
ANNE ELLIOTT:-Anne is a fiction writer/poet/ ukulelist/ feral cat tamer, and author of the reknowned http://Assbackwords.blogsite.com.
BOB HOLMAN- Recently dubbed a member of the "Poetry Pantheon" by N.Y Times Magazine. Holman has been crowned "Poetry Czar" (Village Voice), "Dean of the Scene" (Seventeen), and this generation's Ezra Pound(San Francisco Poetry Flash). http://www.bowerypoetry.com
SAPPHIRE- Sapphire's books include American Dreams, Black Wings & Blind Angels, and Push; NEA chairman John Frohnmayer was fired when he defended her work. http://Amazon.com.
JACKIE SHEELER- Recently featured in the New York Times, poet laureate of Riker’s Island, Jackie has two books and one CD out, is the talk in Talk Engine, and has hosted a weekly reading for the last seven years at Pink PonyWest. http://www.poetz.com
LARISSA SHMAILO-Larissa has a CD, “The No-Net World”, and teaches the class Publish, Perform, or Perish! http://larissashmailo.blogspot.com
HAL SIROWITZ- Hal is former Poet Laureate of Queens, reads Brooklyn work. halsirowitz@yahoo.com
ANGELO VERGA- Angelo is a poet, teacher, editor, curator of literary events, five collections of poetry, currently engaged in "deep research" for a book of love poems.
MC CHOCOLATE WATERS- Chocolate is a pioneer performance artist, director of Eggplant Publications and bon vivant. http://www.chocolatewaters.com
2. MIKE AMERICA AND THE FREE WORLD Acoustic music TIME 5-10 PM with:
5 PM- ADRIENNE NIGHTINGALE- "folk singer songwriter based in Brooklyn, NY. She holds tight reign on the raw emotional material in her songwriting... http://www.myspace.com/AdrienneMusic
5:30-LITTLE EMBERS (feat. Theresa Hoffman) "Little Embers music is a dark swirling revelation ... her new songs like "Radio" and the surreal "Curious Little Clowns" have the mystical poetic feel of sixties Dylan. Her voice is dark and sweet and it draws you in.Her dark, caustic perspective on reality has a world weariness and innate wisdom that is quite compelling" – McQ http://www.myspace.com/littleembers
6-TALK ENGINE feat. JACKIE SHEELER
Talk Engine is rock & roll's answer to hip-hop. "if you’re not dancing at the end of their set it's cause you're flying."-BOB HOLMAN When we do quieter sets, mostly based on spoken word, the material is "tough, savvy and true," -Thomas Lux. http://www.myspace.com/talkengine
6:30-TAMARA HEY-Referred to as "One of NYC's little treasures”, native New Yorker Tamara Hey aligns heart & soul with a natural, unaffected quirkiness & originality in every song.
http://www.tamarahey.com
7-NED MASSEY-The late, great, talent scout John Hammond Sr. called Ned: "The best thing I've seen since Bruce (Springsteen) " – McQ . http://www.nedmassey.com/
7:30-KAREN Maria Schleifer & WALTER Finley's NEW DUO –
'This feisty songstress was a child star in the title role of 'Annie' on Broadway. She still has that natural curly hair and a set of powerful pipes. The new songs slated for her upcoming second CD are strong.' -McQ -
http://www.curlykaren.com & http://www.walterfinley.com
8 PM-CASEY CYR - "Casey Cyr is a seer. A visionary poet and singer songwriter in the beat tradition. Beat as in beatific. Her Buddist faith infuses her work and her music and art has a quality of timeless illumination. Her song "Phantom Moon" is a classic. No wonder the legendary David Amram has called her "the female Dylan." –McQ http://www.caseycyr.com
8:30 PM -ALICE BIERHORST – (of RockDove) "Her chameleon vocals change character with each distinctly crafted song bringing to mind the photography of Cindy Sherman...beautifully weird pop that reminds us that less is more." - Performing Songwriter http://www.alicebierhorst.com.
9 PM-McQ as MIKE AMERICA -"A great knack for song stylization and writing"
Anne Leighton, 'The Music Paper' http://www.myspace.com/newcentury 9:30 PM-NOM de PLUME feat. SARA GENN "a chamber butter bandaid for your broken heart"Sara Genn: voice & rhodes guitar & Keith Witty on double bass
http://www.myspace.com/songsforlonging
3. “FREE WORLD MICROPHONE” POETRY EVENT TIME: 5-7 PM presented by ART HOUSE PRODUCTIONS http://www.arthouseproductions.org DOWNSTAIRS at SUTRA LOUNGE 16 First Avenue NYC 10009
MC CHRISTINE GOODMAN is Founder/Director of Art House Productions, a multimedia arts organization presenting THE ART HOUSE (Jersey City’s longest running poetry series), original theater pieces, a television show for JC and NYC, live music events, JC Fridays (a seasonal, citywide celebration of the arts), and publications featuring local writers works. She also serves as an Arts Commissioner for the City of Jersey City.
http://www.christine-goodman.com & http://www.myspace.com/christinegoodman
GARLAND L. THOMPSON, JR. - Poet, Writer, Actor, Producer, Director, and Playwright, Garland established the Annual West Coast Championship Poetry Slam now in it’s 9th season after moving to Monterey, Ca in 1998. http://www.westcoastslam.com This yearly rite of passage takes place at the breathtakingly beautiful Henry Miller Library in Big Sur & has become one of the largest events of it’s kind, hosting slam teams from around the country for a chance to win $2000.00 in cash prizes.
PATRICIA SMITH - Award-winning poet, playwright, journalist and performer, Patricia Smith is a renaissance artist of undeniable and unmistakable signature. She is four-time national individual slam champion.
http://www.english.uiuc.edu/maps/poets/s_z/p_smith/about.htm.www.louderarts.com/poets/smith/
SURVIVOR- is a four-time semi-finalist in the Nuyorican slams. John Blake (aka Survivor) was born addicted to heroin and raised on the lower east side of Manhattan, the youngest of 9 children. After losing his entire family to addiction and AIDS, he was able to give up a 20 year addiction for poetry after seeing a segment of Russell Simmons' Def Poetry on HBO. http://www.myspace.com/survivor
DUJUANA SHARESE- is an eight-time slam champion, & member of the Orlando Slam team 2002. D. Sharese has performed across the nation, in the 2006 Heritage Pride Rally, NYC, and serves as Artistic Director for the Cypher Movement open art and poetry slam. http://www.cyphermovement.com
CASEY CYR’s lyrical poetry & haunting melodies from her debut CD "Phantom Moon" reflect the unconscious realm of magic. Casey co-founded & produced the NY Underground Music & Poetry Festival in 2000, performed in CMJ 2000- 02, and curated Old Angel Midnight Tribute to Jack Kerouac & David Amram for HOWL! Fest 2004. Cyr’s work has been published by Hozomeen Press, Pop Rocket Records, Mystic Discs & Calque Cinema. She is featured on "Hozomeen JAM", a spoken word & music CD with David Amram, Ron Whitehead & Lee Ranaldo. http://www.caseycyr.com
MIKE MCHUGH - aka MIKE AMERICA is a poet, singer/songwriter and community leader who has been booking emerging musical acts and performing on the downtown New York music scene for more than two decades. Tonight he performs songs and poems from his rock opera 'Son Of A Nation' a poetic prophesy as conceived by Walt Whitman. http://www.myspace.com/newcentury
EKAYANI - singer, songwriter, music journalist & front woman for the jazzy/world/ spoken word musical group “Ekayani and the Healing Band”, she is an ISC & Billboard World Song Contest Honoree' 05, New Century People's Choice Awards Winner in '06 for her # 1 single “La Raihna” in the R&B and smooth jazz categories from her award winning album FULL LENGTH. http://www.ekayani.net
ALSO-THERESA SAREO AT CRASH MANSION 199 BOWERY 7- $10 COVER AND AFTERPARTY
3 EVENTS! 2 POETRY EVENTS AND 1 MUSICAL EVENT
CONTACT:EKAYANI CHAMBERLIN ekayani2002@yahoo.com (212) 475-6547
BACK UP: Mike McHugh newcenturybooking@yahoo.com (212) 561-9789
WHEN: SATURDAY, SEPTEMBER 16 FROM 5-10 PM
WHERE: SUTRA LOUNGE http://www.sutranyc.com
16 1ST AVE
(BET. HOUSTON & FIRST ST)
PH: (212) 677 9477
$8 ADMISSION GOOD FOR ALL THREE EVENTS
ALSO: THERESA SAREO AT CRASH MANSION 7-10PM 199 BOWERY $10 ADDITIONAL COVER
1. SAT 9/16 7:30 – 10:00: SLIDING SCALE POETRY PRESENTS:
REGIE CABICO-Regie has appeared on MTV’s Def Poetry Jam, PBS’s In the Life, and in over 30 anthologies. http://www.globaltalentassoc.com/site/clients/cabico.htm
ANNE ELLIOTT:-Anne is a fiction writer/poet/ ukulelist/ feral cat tamer, and author of the reknowned http://Assbackwords.blogsite.com.
BOB HOLMAN- Recently dubbed a member of the "Poetry Pantheon" by N.Y Times Magazine. Holman has been crowned "Poetry Czar" (Village Voice), "Dean of the Scene" (Seventeen), and this generation's Ezra Pound(San Francisco Poetry Flash). http://www.bowerypoetry.com
SAPPHIRE- Sapphire's books include American Dreams, Black Wings & Blind Angels, and Push; NEA chairman John Frohnmayer was fired when he defended her work. http://Amazon.com.
JACKIE SHEELER- Recently featured in the New York Times, poet laureate of Riker’s Island, Jackie has two books and one CD out, is the talk in Talk Engine, and has hosted a weekly reading for the last seven years at Pink PonyWest. http://www.poetz.com
LARISSA SHMAILO-Larissa has a CD, “The No-Net World”, and teaches the class Publish, Perform, or Perish! http://larissashmailo.blogspot.com
HAL SIROWITZ- Hal is former Poet Laureate of Queens, reads Brooklyn work. halsirowitz@yahoo.com
ANGELO VERGA- Angelo is a poet, teacher, editor, curator of literary events, five collections of poetry, currently engaged in "deep research" for a book of love poems.
MC CHOCOLATE WATERS- Chocolate is a pioneer performance artist, director of Eggplant Publications and bon vivant. http://www.chocolatewaters.com
2. MIKE AMERICA AND THE FREE WORLD Acoustic music TIME 5-10 PM with:
5 PM- ADRIENNE NIGHTINGALE- "folk singer songwriter based in Brooklyn, NY. She holds tight reign on the raw emotional material in her songwriting... http://www.myspace.com/AdrienneMusic
5:30-LITTLE EMBERS (feat. Theresa Hoffman) "Little Embers music is a dark swirling revelation ... her new songs like "Radio" and the surreal "Curious Little Clowns" have the mystical poetic feel of sixties Dylan. Her voice is dark and sweet and it draws you in.Her dark, caustic perspective on reality has a world weariness and innate wisdom that is quite compelling" – McQ http://www.myspace.com/littleembers
6-TALK ENGINE feat. JACKIE SHEELER
Talk Engine is rock & roll's answer to hip-hop. "if you’re not dancing at the end of their set it's cause you're flying."-BOB HOLMAN When we do quieter sets, mostly based on spoken word, the material is "tough, savvy and true," -Thomas Lux. http://www.myspace.com/talkengine
6:30-TAMARA HEY-Referred to as "One of NYC's little treasures”, native New Yorker Tamara Hey aligns heart & soul with a natural, unaffected quirkiness & originality in every song.
http://www.tamarahey.com
7-NED MASSEY-The late, great, talent scout John Hammond Sr. called Ned: "The best thing I've seen since Bruce (Springsteen) " – McQ . http://www.nedmassey.com/
7:30-KAREN Maria Schleifer & WALTER Finley's NEW DUO –
'This feisty songstress was a child star in the title role of 'Annie' on Broadway. She still has that natural curly hair and a set of powerful pipes. The new songs slated for her upcoming second CD are strong.' -McQ -
http://www.curlykaren.com & http://www.walterfinley.com
8 PM-CASEY CYR - "Casey Cyr is a seer. A visionary poet and singer songwriter in the beat tradition. Beat as in beatific. Her Buddist faith infuses her work and her music and art has a quality of timeless illumination. Her song "Phantom Moon" is a classic. No wonder the legendary David Amram has called her "the female Dylan." –McQ http://www.caseycyr.com
8:30 PM -ALICE BIERHORST – (of RockDove) "Her chameleon vocals change character with each distinctly crafted song bringing to mind the photography of Cindy Sherman...beautifully weird pop that reminds us that less is more." - Performing Songwriter http://www.alicebierhorst.com.
9 PM-McQ as MIKE AMERICA -"A great knack for song stylization and writing"
Anne Leighton, 'The Music Paper' http://www.myspace.com/newcentury 9:30 PM-NOM de PLUME feat. SARA GENN "a chamber butter bandaid for your broken heart"Sara Genn: voice & rhodes guitar & Keith Witty on double bass
http://www.myspace.com/songsforlonging
3. “FREE WORLD MICROPHONE” POETRY EVENT TIME: 5-7 PM presented by ART HOUSE PRODUCTIONS http://www.arthouseproductions.org DOWNSTAIRS at SUTRA LOUNGE 16 First Avenue NYC 10009
MC CHRISTINE GOODMAN is Founder/Director of Art House Productions, a multimedia arts organization presenting THE ART HOUSE (Jersey City’s longest running poetry series), original theater pieces, a television show for JC and NYC, live music events, JC Fridays (a seasonal, citywide celebration of the arts), and publications featuring local writers works. She also serves as an Arts Commissioner for the City of Jersey City.
http://www.christine-goodman.com & http://www.myspace.com/christinegoodman
GARLAND L. THOMPSON, JR. - Poet, Writer, Actor, Producer, Director, and Playwright, Garland established the Annual West Coast Championship Poetry Slam now in it’s 9th season after moving to Monterey, Ca in 1998. http://www.westcoastslam.com This yearly rite of passage takes place at the breathtakingly beautiful Henry Miller Library in Big Sur & has become one of the largest events of it’s kind, hosting slam teams from around the country for a chance to win $2000.00 in cash prizes.
PATRICIA SMITH - Award-winning poet, playwright, journalist and performer, Patricia Smith is a renaissance artist of undeniable and unmistakable signature. She is four-time national individual slam champion.
http://www.english.uiuc.edu/maps/poets/s_z/p_smith/about.htm.www.louderarts.com/poets/smith/
SURVIVOR- is a four-time semi-finalist in the Nuyorican slams. John Blake (aka Survivor) was born addicted to heroin and raised on the lower east side of Manhattan, the youngest of 9 children. After losing his entire family to addiction and AIDS, he was able to give up a 20 year addiction for poetry after seeing a segment of Russell Simmons' Def Poetry on HBO. http://www.myspace.com/survivor
DUJUANA SHARESE- is an eight-time slam champion, & member of the Orlando Slam team 2002. D. Sharese has performed across the nation, in the 2006 Heritage Pride Rally, NYC, and serves as Artistic Director for the Cypher Movement open art and poetry slam. http://www.cyphermovement.com
CASEY CYR’s lyrical poetry & haunting melodies from her debut CD "Phantom Moon" reflect the unconscious realm of magic. Casey co-founded & produced the NY Underground Music & Poetry Festival in 2000, performed in CMJ 2000- 02, and curated Old Angel Midnight Tribute to Jack Kerouac & David Amram for HOWL! Fest 2004. Cyr’s work has been published by Hozomeen Press, Pop Rocket Records, Mystic Discs & Calque Cinema. She is featured on "Hozomeen JAM", a spoken word & music CD with David Amram, Ron Whitehead & Lee Ranaldo. http://www.caseycyr.com
MIKE MCHUGH - aka MIKE AMERICA is a poet, singer/songwriter and community leader who has been booking emerging musical acts and performing on the downtown New York music scene for more than two decades. Tonight he performs songs and poems from his rock opera 'Son Of A Nation' a poetic prophesy as conceived by Walt Whitman. http://www.myspace.com/newcentury
EKAYANI - singer, songwriter, music journalist & front woman for the jazzy/world/ spoken word musical group “Ekayani and the Healing Band”, she is an ISC & Billboard World Song Contest Honoree' 05, New Century People's Choice Awards Winner in '06 for her # 1 single “La Raihna” in the R&B and smooth jazz categories from her award winning album FULL LENGTH. http://www.ekayani.net
ALSO-THERESA SAREO AT CRASH MANSION 199 BOWERY 7- $10 COVER AND AFTERPARTY
Wednesday, July 26, 2006
In Memoriam_Juli the Bestest Dog
I met Juli at the Bread & Life Soup Kitchen in 1996. We made friends and she greeted me everyday on my way to work. One day I found her sick and decided to take her home. She had a full recovery, but the transition from street dog to apartment life was slow--often Juli would simply take the elevator out to walk herself. No "come here" with doggie treats. She'd just look as if to say, "That's all right, I'll just eat this here squirrel here." Eventually she domesticated and was greatly loved by all the neighbors. And what wasn't to love? Intelligent, alert, kind and affectionate, and a mean ball player--she loved ball more than any other thing. Was good at it too. Got to the point you coldn't fake her out--she looked up down and sideways and ran, ran with the love of it, for her ball. Of all the dogs--and there are some fine ones out there- she was the best. Simply the best.
Friday, June 23, 2006
Review of The No-Net World--THE PEDESTAL MAGAZINE
Larissa Shmailo's The No-Net World...reviewed by JoSelle Vanderhooft
The No-Net World
Larissa Shmailo
CD (Spoken Word, Music by Bobby Perfect)
Eggplant Press/Produced by SongCrew Records
ISBN Number: 0935060014
Reviewer: JoSelle Vanderhooft
Listening to poet and translator Larissa Shmailo’s latest spoken word CD is almost like attending eighteen short plays in the span of forty minutes. Like the best plays, each poem tells a compelling story of human struggle, in which characters fight (and routinely fail) to obtain such basic necessities as food, shelter, liberty, even love. Like the best plays, her poems also crackle with breathtaking language, which in the true tradition of the tragedies of which she speaks almost sound as if they could be sung (indeed, in some cases they almost are). Shmailo’s expert understanding of the close relationship between poetry and drama, music and language, and the primal human need to just hear a really, really good story make The No-Net World a truly unique contribution to twenty-first century American poetry, and a CD worth listening to frequently and carefully.
Also in the tradition of the world’s best dramas, Shmailo’s poems are filled with fascinating and all-too-human characters whose stories of loss, frustration, and displacement resonate with the listener long after the CD’s end. One of the collection’s most striking poems is “Madwoman," a poem about a mentally ill homeless woman, which would find good company in a book of contemporary monologues for actresses. Delivered in Shmailo’s warm, full Broadway voice and accompanied by Bobby Perfect’s restless guitar chords, it might just as well be one.
Here I am again walking among these vague and tepid people. They evoke a slight feeling of distaste in me. They smell my pain. They have no idea. I just hold my phone, the cellular phone I use for a disguise and I talk. Talk to the ultimate answering service. I walk and I talk to God. When you died I ripped the electrodes out of my skull and ran away from the land of cables and TV sets, great battles of television were fought here, great battles were lost. SoHo is no different from uptown or downtown, it’s all money and talking and bars, sex in cars, job-job-job, so I went to see the trees. The trees were beautiful, their leaves forming patterns of light on the ground and as the light played on my hair and my cheeks I realized no one ever dies. They just become trees. Even Marilyn Monroe was alive in a leaf.
The poem follows the speaker’s trip to the West Side Highway where she meets homeless people, speaks to God and Jesus, and eventually is “cured" of her illness. She takes pills, has a job and worries about her boyfriend’s health. But as she informs us, “you can’t really ever take the gift of madness away."
Once you have been stripped by god of everything—clothing, family, freedom, senses—you are his for life. And I was stripped, oh yes dear Lord of everything—every last thing. God took everything leaving only my soul, but I found that was enough.
Not only the stuff of great drama, this is also the stuff of truly compassionate and socially aware poetry. Instead of sentimentalizing and infantilizing the mentally ill and the homeless as the television shows Shmailo rails against tend to do, Shmailo looks at her subject as an individual, with her own past, present, and future, as well as her own set of demons to haunt her. By treating the nameless Madwoman with such care and respect, Shmailo turns her into a modern day Fool, even into King Lear himself when he wails at the storm in Act III, scene iv:
Poor naked wretches, wheresoe'er you are,
That bide the pelting of this pitiless storm,
How shall your houseless heads and unfed sides,
Your loop'd and window'd raggedness, defend you
From seasons such as these? O! I have ta'en
Too little care of this! Take physic, pomp;
Expose thyself to feel what wretches feel,
That thou mayst shake the superflux to them,
And show the heavens more just.
Indeed, the echoes of Shakespeare’s greatest tragedy can be found in many of The No-Net World’s poems, including “Lager NYC," “Death at Sea," “For Six Months with You," “Hunts Point Counterpoint," and the title poem itself. Like Shakespeare, Shmailo does not attempt to explain or justify poverty, madness, or the horror of the Holocaust or diseases such as AIDS (a subject to which Shmailo frequently returns). Instead, suffering is merely something to be endured, railed against, even eventually accepted.
Shmailo gives acceptance of suffering and death, which is, perhaps, suffering in one of its most brutal forms, beautiful treatment in the short poem “Johnny I Love You Don’t Die," one of the many on this CD which could well be a song, despite the lack of musical accompaniment.
Johnny I love you don’t die
Johnny I love you don’t die
Johnny, do you remember
Sitting on the stoop
The smell of green lilacs
The moon in your hair
My battered face
Your purple heart
You said they had no right
No right
And that no one would ever do that to us
again
Oh Johnny I love you don’t die
Johnny I love you don’t die
—AZT—
Johnny I love you don’t die
—just need work—
Johnny I love you don’t die
—T-cells go—
Johnny I love you don’t die
—Up and down—
Johnny I love you don’t die
—You’ll be strong—
Johnny I love you don’t die
—Soon I swear—
Johnny I love you don’t die
But eventually the speaker realizes that death is inevitable and encourages her husband to “let go, it’s okay." Shmailo’s willingness to portray death as an inevitable part of life, and indeed an inevitable part of love, is a mature, even profound statement to make in a culture which has become pathological in its fear of death.
But love does not exist merely as a corollary to death in Shmailo’s work. Several of her poems celebrate love for its own sake, including “Quantum Love" and “New Life." To further emphasize the importance love has on her work, Shmailo also includes her own elegant translations of Alexander Pushkin’s “I Loved You Once" and Vladimir Mayakovsky’s “Already One," two Russian poems which celebrate the passion, scope, and gravitas of love without discoursing into the despair that often accompanies it.
If the poems on The No-Net World are beautiful, the CD’s sound quality and production only add to their beauty. The recording is mercifully free from static, interference, and white noise that often plague spoken word CDs. The sound board used to make the recording also appears to have been operated by a proficient engineer; Shmailo’s rich, expressive contralto never sounds tinny or cavernous. Overall it is a nearly flawless CD that will especially appeal to patrons and practitioners of the performing arts, and to anyone who simply loves to hear a good story told well.
The No-Net World
Larissa Shmailo
CD (Spoken Word, Music by Bobby Perfect)
Eggplant Press/Produced by SongCrew Records
ISBN Number: 0935060014
Reviewer: JoSelle Vanderhooft
Listening to poet and translator Larissa Shmailo’s latest spoken word CD is almost like attending eighteen short plays in the span of forty minutes. Like the best plays, each poem tells a compelling story of human struggle, in which characters fight (and routinely fail) to obtain such basic necessities as food, shelter, liberty, even love. Like the best plays, her poems also crackle with breathtaking language, which in the true tradition of the tragedies of which she speaks almost sound as if they could be sung (indeed, in some cases they almost are). Shmailo’s expert understanding of the close relationship between poetry and drama, music and language, and the primal human need to just hear a really, really good story make The No-Net World a truly unique contribution to twenty-first century American poetry, and a CD worth listening to frequently and carefully.
Also in the tradition of the world’s best dramas, Shmailo’s poems are filled with fascinating and all-too-human characters whose stories of loss, frustration, and displacement resonate with the listener long after the CD’s end. One of the collection’s most striking poems is “Madwoman," a poem about a mentally ill homeless woman, which would find good company in a book of contemporary monologues for actresses. Delivered in Shmailo’s warm, full Broadway voice and accompanied by Bobby Perfect’s restless guitar chords, it might just as well be one.
Here I am again walking among these vague and tepid people. They evoke a slight feeling of distaste in me. They smell my pain. They have no idea. I just hold my phone, the cellular phone I use for a disguise and I talk. Talk to the ultimate answering service. I walk and I talk to God. When you died I ripped the electrodes out of my skull and ran away from the land of cables and TV sets, great battles of television were fought here, great battles were lost. SoHo is no different from uptown or downtown, it’s all money and talking and bars, sex in cars, job-job-job, so I went to see the trees. The trees were beautiful, their leaves forming patterns of light on the ground and as the light played on my hair and my cheeks I realized no one ever dies. They just become trees. Even Marilyn Monroe was alive in a leaf.
The poem follows the speaker’s trip to the West Side Highway where she meets homeless people, speaks to God and Jesus, and eventually is “cured" of her illness. She takes pills, has a job and worries about her boyfriend’s health. But as she informs us, “you can’t really ever take the gift of madness away."
Once you have been stripped by god of everything—clothing, family, freedom, senses—you are his for life. And I was stripped, oh yes dear Lord of everything—every last thing. God took everything leaving only my soul, but I found that was enough.
Not only the stuff of great drama, this is also the stuff of truly compassionate and socially aware poetry. Instead of sentimentalizing and infantilizing the mentally ill and the homeless as the television shows Shmailo rails against tend to do, Shmailo looks at her subject as an individual, with her own past, present, and future, as well as her own set of demons to haunt her. By treating the nameless Madwoman with such care and respect, Shmailo turns her into a modern day Fool, even into King Lear himself when he wails at the storm in Act III, scene iv:
Poor naked wretches, wheresoe'er you are,
That bide the pelting of this pitiless storm,
How shall your houseless heads and unfed sides,
Your loop'd and window'd raggedness, defend you
From seasons such as these? O! I have ta'en
Too little care of this! Take physic, pomp;
Expose thyself to feel what wretches feel,
That thou mayst shake the superflux to them,
And show the heavens more just.
Indeed, the echoes of Shakespeare’s greatest tragedy can be found in many of The No-Net World’s poems, including “Lager NYC," “Death at Sea," “For Six Months with You," “Hunts Point Counterpoint," and the title poem itself. Like Shakespeare, Shmailo does not attempt to explain or justify poverty, madness, or the horror of the Holocaust or diseases such as AIDS (a subject to which Shmailo frequently returns). Instead, suffering is merely something to be endured, railed against, even eventually accepted.
Shmailo gives acceptance of suffering and death, which is, perhaps, suffering in one of its most brutal forms, beautiful treatment in the short poem “Johnny I Love You Don’t Die," one of the many on this CD which could well be a song, despite the lack of musical accompaniment.
Johnny I love you don’t die
Johnny I love you don’t die
Johnny, do you remember
Sitting on the stoop
The smell of green lilacs
The moon in your hair
My battered face
Your purple heart
You said they had no right
No right
And that no one would ever do that to us
again
Oh Johnny I love you don’t die
Johnny I love you don’t die
—AZT—
Johnny I love you don’t die
—just need work—
Johnny I love you don’t die
—T-cells go—
Johnny I love you don’t die
—Up and down—
Johnny I love you don’t die
—You’ll be strong—
Johnny I love you don’t die
—Soon I swear—
Johnny I love you don’t die
But eventually the speaker realizes that death is inevitable and encourages her husband to “let go, it’s okay." Shmailo’s willingness to portray death as an inevitable part of life, and indeed an inevitable part of love, is a mature, even profound statement to make in a culture which has become pathological in its fear of death.
But love does not exist merely as a corollary to death in Shmailo’s work. Several of her poems celebrate love for its own sake, including “Quantum Love" and “New Life." To further emphasize the importance love has on her work, Shmailo also includes her own elegant translations of Alexander Pushkin’s “I Loved You Once" and Vladimir Mayakovsky’s “Already One," two Russian poems which celebrate the passion, scope, and gravitas of love without discoursing into the despair that often accompanies it.
If the poems on The No-Net World are beautiful, the CD’s sound quality and production only add to their beauty. The recording is mercifully free from static, interference, and white noise that often plague spoken word CDs. The sound board used to make the recording also appears to have been operated by a proficient engineer; Shmailo’s rich, expressive contralto never sounds tinny or cavernous. Overall it is a nearly flawless CD that will especially appeal to patrons and practitioners of the performing arts, and to anyone who simply loves to hear a good story told well.
Monday, April 10, 2006
Monday, April 03, 2006
Saturday, April 01, 2006
Larissa Shmailo’s The No-Net World
SongCrew Recording Productions Presents a Poetry CD Release Party!
Larissa Shmailo’s
The No-Net World
Saturday, April 29th,
The Bowery Poetry Club
308 Bowery
(between Houston and Bleecker at the foot of
F to Delancey; 6 to Bleecker
$6 admission
Information: (212) 712-9865
Larissa Shmailo will read from her new poetry CD, The No-Net World, on Saturday, April 29, at
“The No-Net World," the title poem of Larissa’s new CD, has become internationally known as a rallying cry for social justice and help for the homeless. Published and distributed by political groups, performed and recorded by other poets, “The No-Net World” was just reprinted appeared in the Christmas 2005 issue of Street News.
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