Poetry is for life, not for ivory towers.
That’s why, on October 29th, an initiative is launching that seeks to change the face of poetry readership — in America and beyond.
Does that sound impossibly big? The strength of it is in small things. Tea, toast, a hint of mischief.
[Tweet “Poetry is for life, not for ivory towers.”]
Here’s the problem (or one of them) with poetry in America: on the one hand, poetry publishers and those in the poetry establishment want to reach new readers, but they continue to try to reach these readers in mostly old ways. On the other hand, our education system often struggles to teach poetry to the new generation — whether it be methodology problems like Billy Collins notes in “Introduction to Poetry” (beating the poem with a hose!) or issues like constraints in the curriculum.
Let’s be honest. (We make it our business to be honest about the industry, and it’s led us to recognize some very deep problems for poetry.) Here’s the truth: poetry, for the average citizen, is Hallmark. It’s Britney Spears. It’s the back of a clever cereal box. Why? Because these are the things the average person might encounter in his everyday space. The big Aaron Belz poetry reading in your local living room? Not so much. As ticklishly inviting as Belz’s poetry can be, it’s a good bet that Aaron hasn’t been reading in the cul-de-sac near you.
[Tweet “Poetry, for the average citizen, is Hallmark.”]
With something called The Mischief Café, that’s about to change. Call it a beginning. Call it an “end.” Call it the biggest thing that might have happened for poetry in a long time — an attempt to break poetry free from its “current double-bind.”
The idea is deceptively simple, with complex implications.
It started with toast.
In January, Pacific Standard ran an article about a remarkable woman in San Francisco, whose challenges in life led to the birth of Trouble — a café that offers toast and coconut milk served straight from the coconut.
Trouble quickly led to mischief, as Tweetspeak Poetry was inspired to create a welcome space on its website called The Mischief Café. Tweetspeak then enlisted volunteer “baristas” to pour virtual coffee, tea, and poetry (plus the occasional dash of mischief), for newcomers and regulars of the site, via Twitter and Facebook.
The system has worked beautifully. But here was the trouble, if you will. The fun of it has been all virtual. If the poetry establishment has gotten anything right, it’s the emphasis on live readings and poetry journals you can hold in your hands. This is critical, in an atmosphere where too many people experience “the unbearable lightness of not being, ” which, put another way, is the ethereal existence of living on the flat plain of technology. Here, our senses are limited to sight and sound. Touch is a keyboard. We don’t see the true, three-dimensional movements of Belz. Or get to pour his tea (or maybe he’d pour ours).
So, with a nod to the establishment, Tweetspeak decided to take its signature depth and fun (and toast and tea) on the road, with a traveling Mischief Café — tea, cinnamon toast, and poetry, brought right into people’s homes, amidst friends. It contains the promise of three-dimensionality that a poetry reading offers, without the intimidation. (Really, think on it. A poetry reading might seem benign enough, but the average person simply isn’t going to attend. It’s too unfamiliar. And unless we’re talking about city dwellers, it’s probably miles away.)
Ay, but here’s the rub. Just as there is only one Belz, there is only one Tweetspeak Poetry, and it is miles away from the all the requests to bring the café to the Pacific Northwest, Texas, the Midwest, the Mid-Atlantic, and the southeastern seaboard. New Jersey is the exception, so the very first café will take place in the Garden State on October 29, in Basking Ridge.
Let’s say the café was delivered establishment style, and only the “experts” at Tweetspeak could do it. How long would the average person have to wait, for poetry to come to tea right down the street?
Too long. And that points out the additional trouble with poetry. We have too few means to get poetry into people’s hands, in ways they can parse and play with, that also take it a step up from Spears (and we hold nothing against her, but she’s no T. S. Eliot). What can be done — for poetry, and for poetry coming to tea?
[Tweet “We have too few means to get poetry into people’s hands.”]
In a conversation with fans on Facebook, Tweetspeak landed on a helpful solution: a Mischief Café guide and anthology.
So T. S. Poetry Press created one, and quickly. In the spirit of including the regular person right from the start, the guide includes not just great poetry from established poets, but has blank pages with poem title prompts at the top, for people to write their own poems during a café gathering, unless that’s too intimidating. Such decisions would be up to the host. Everything can be kept as simple as tea, toast, poetry read aloud amidst friends. (Though mischief might not be optional.)
Whether Tweetspeak brings the café to homes by tour, or people run their own, in the end, this could be big. If you doubt it, consider what the book club did for novels.
It’s time to take poetry home–for life.
Photo by Lars Erik Skrefsrud, Creative Commons, via Flickr.
Check out the very first Mischief Café, that took place in Basking Ridge, New Jersey!
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Jody Lee Collins says
Honored to be one of the PNW ‘hostees’ of the Cafe. Mischief ahead, no doubt.
L.L. Barkat says
Can’t wait to meet you, Jody! 🙂
I’m thinking all good poetry is mischief.
Matthew Kreider says
Buttery toast, tea, and “the unbearable lightness of not being.” I’ve been thinking about this, which has led to thoughts of caves, poetry booths and Wanda Koop. And to the conclusion that teens (and younger) need this tasty mischief, too.
I love what’s happening.
L.L. Barkat says
Of course I want to hear more about what you are thinking. Dream out loud a little?
I’ll tell you that my high school-aged girls are absolutely in love with the idea. They were so excited to get their books, too, and have already written some poems in them.
Matthew Kreider says
I think this idea will resonate with teens. They just need a proper invitation. The Mischief Café shares an energy with Dead Poets Society, I think. And teens possess a strong social media marketing engine. I like the idea of them arming themselves with this newly published guide. Or even a second book which would target them more directly.
But this idea of giving poetry more three-dimensional space — removed from the ivory towers and instead inserted into the communal space of our kitchen tables, tree stumps, and caves — prompts me to consider new ways of doing this.
Art City is a nationally-renown organization founded by Wanda Koop here in Winnipeg. I’ve been talking to them about their interest in offering more opportunities in the literary arts. Last summer kids made a photo booth, with a two-way mirror, which was set up at various festivals around town. Instead of a photo coming through the slot, a hand-drawn portrait popped out for those folks who stepped inside. The same booth could be repurposed into a poetry booth. Community poetry boxes (modelled after those library boxes) could be set up in our neighbourhood. Kids could hang poems alongside the concert posters on street poles, just as they have done with their witty public service announcements in the past. Writing their own cereal box poetry. I’m getting a flood of ideas. And their could be so much cross-pollination between both the visual arts and literary arts. Of course Tweetspeak loves that kind of thing. And the folks at Art City do, too.
Yes, kids have a knack for stirring up mischief — for people of all ages. Think Dead Poets Society. Think of your girls and Tweetspeak.
L. L. Barkat says
I love these ideas, Matthew. And it’s funny you should mention Dead Poet’s Society. I totally thought of that with this.
I’ll be delighted to see where you might take it, and you know Tweetspeak is happy to support in whatever ways we can.
Megan Willome says
Thank you for a comprehensive explanation, as I missed all the mischief. It figures that would happen the first time I take a social media break!
P.S. I didn’t know people up north ate cinnamon toast. I thought it was a Southern thing. It’s the first thing I learned to make that required heat.
L. L. Barkat says
Quite welcome. I was feeling like this needed to be done, so the whole community could be sure to know about it.
Well, then, we should do one someday, with cinnamon toast and tea.
Btw, my youngest said of my stacked teacups today, “They look like the Megan Willome teacups.” What a memory. I didn’t even know she’d ever seen your site! Tea, teacups, a little tipping, make a big impression 😉
Laura Brown says
Cinnamon toast was possibly my favorite breakfast when I was a kid growing up in Ohio.
Megan Willome says
That makes me so happy! Thank the all-powerful LW, who found them for me.
L. L. Barkat says
Never underestimate the power of a red teacup. 🙂 Or six.
L. L. Barkat says
oh, me too, Laura. Maybe because it was so few and far between that I got to have it. (And butter was even more infrequent).
We see how childhood follows us into later life 😉
I am very much hoping I will be able to find proper cinnamon toast to bring to people’s houses on this tour! Not sure if every region has it on hand. I know things can be quite regional, after all.
Diana Trautwein says
Lots of lovely stuff here – congrats and good luck!