WEBVTT

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That's nice.

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I didn't know I was
getting an intro, too.

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Very, very kind.

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I'm going to start
formal and then

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get slightly less
formal, if that's OK,

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just to give everyone a sense.

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Anselm Berrigan, poet, teacher,
editor and occasional publisher,

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is the author of
several books of poetry,

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including Don't
Forget to Love Me,

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Something for Everybody, Come
in Alone, Primitive State, Notes

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from Irrelevance, Zero
Star Hotel, and Regrets.

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He was the poetry editor for
the Brooklyn Rail from 2008

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until recently, and is the
former artistic director

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of the Poetry Project
at St. Mark's Church.

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He edited What is Poetry?

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Just Kidding, I Know
You Know: Interviews

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from the Poetry Project
Newsletter, 1983 to 2009.

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Berrigan's Work is clever,
multifaceted, intellectual,

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colloquial, everyday, political,
cosmic, ever adapting formally

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and visually on the
rectangle of the page,

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and resistant to the
simplicity or reductions.

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Berrigan challenges the status
quo and uplifts the outlier.

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And the long poem, And What
Does Need Mean, for the Parish

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Hall at St. Mark's church,
Berrigan writes, "I come here

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to listen without
convention to listen,

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against to listen for
conventions, lack to hear it,

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the art of its offshoots,
foils, companions

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and highly troubled
organs disappear

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by doing being in
that, it's easy to do

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and gets harder as the
shapes get shapelier.

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You really think
language failed?

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I would describe Berrigan as
consistently gesturing outward,

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questioning the role of
the speaker or the ego,

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its role in the poem, the
vessel in which perceptions

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seep through and are
artfully arranged.

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In his book Come in Alone, a
visually idiosyncratic book

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of poems written
along the border

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of the page, the first
poem is marked solely

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with the capital letter
I repeated, for instance.

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Here, poems and
lines are seamless,

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circuiting outward
into endless meanings.

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Berrigan is generous.

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In his life and
work, he continues

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to acknowledge and honor
his poetic influences,

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and to support up and
coming poets alike.

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Through his editing work on
interviews in What is Poetry?

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Just Kidding, I Know You Know,
Berrigan facilitated and made

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space for the
cross-generational engagement

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between younger poets who wanted
to connect with older artists

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and writers.

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I'm full of cliches when I
try to articulate earnestly

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and honestly what Berrigan's
influence has been on my life

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as a poet.

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I wouldn't have become a
poet if I hadn't, or it

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was serendipitous that I
encountered Berrigan early on.

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Anselm was one of my first
poetry workshop teachers.

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And I was fortunate to absorb
his knowledge for a couple

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semesters between 2009 and 2011
at Pratt Institute in Brooklyn.

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Over 15 years later, I still
carry Anselm's poem prompts

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and lessons with me closely,
often recycling them

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onto my own students.

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Anselm taught me
how to keep poetry

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as a through line in my
life, despite the ever

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dominant cultures,
minimization, or questioning

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of poetry as a life path.

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Anselm taught us,
through close readings,

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interesting and humanizing
anecdotes on poets,

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and speaking the poems out
loud about the power of poetry

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to shift the atmosphere.

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Things that were
invisible became visible.

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Anselm allowed us
to enter, extend,

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and move beyond the realms of
grief, daily life, and dreams.

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We were saturated
meaningfully with the work

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of vast and varied
poets, many of whom

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were memorable for the ways
Anselm introduced them, revered

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them, extended
curiosity, and offered

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their multidimensionality
beyond the xeroxed pages.

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This is a long intro.

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I tried to make it shorter, but
we're just going to keep going.

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And I'm a woman
of few words, so.

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My classmates and
I, in the semesters

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that followed, missing
Anselm's wisdom and presence,

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would wistfully say to one
another, Anselm, forever.

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I learned and witnessed,
through Anselm's teachings,

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that poetry transcends time,
geography, death, and logic.

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I learned and continue to
learn the magic of coincidence.

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In the time between
now and then,

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there have been many
real surreal moments.

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Anselm would have us
write him letters.

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And through this, he provided
many personalized book

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recommendations.

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One book he recommended to
me was the anthology Not

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For Mothers Only:
Contemporary Poems on Child

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Getting and Child Rearing.

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Drawn to many of
the contributors,

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though ignorant to
the motherhood theme,

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I recently pulled it
instinctually from the shelf

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for the first time
in over a decade,

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pregnant with my first child.

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During an Anne Carson
reading at St. Mark's Church,

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I saw Lou Reed, one of
my heroes at the time,

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doze off in the audience.

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Soon after my time in
New York City, I was star

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struck when I spotted the poet
Cedar Sigo, whose work Anselm

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shared with us
working the cosmetics

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section of Rainbow Grocery in
San Francisco, a place I went to

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as a child.

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In New Mexico, I
went to a bookstore

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and asked the staff if they had
any books by Layli Long Soldier.

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Anselm had taught some
of her online poems.

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And I was baffled when they said
they didn't, not understanding

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how time worked, that her
book Whereas was years

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away from entering the world.

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I remember many Alice
Notley readings at Pratt,

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the entire creative
writing program

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crammed into one classroom.

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In Oakland, I
hobbled on crutches

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to see her read in a warehouse
here at the Poetry Center, also

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for a lecture and a reading.

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At the University of Arizona,
another packed classroom.

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I remember Notley
tearing up reciting lines

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from William Carlos Williams'
Asphodel, that Greeny Flower.

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Buzzing, I rushed
home to read the poem

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and didn't feel what
Notley seemed to feel.

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But when I read the poem
this morning, I wept.

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Here at the Poetry
Center, I've received

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the gift of witnessing so
many incredible poets read.

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And I find that if you
wait around long enough,

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favorites like Anselm
Berrigan will arrive.

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Please, let's welcome
Anselm Berrigan.

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