RICHARD LORANGER
A SIMPLE CURRENT
POEMS FOR A CENTRALIZED CHURCH
"3 STUDENTS, 1 TEACHER, 5-TRAIN"
GROUND SENSE
FILTER CIGARETTE SENTENCES
SONG OF LUNA
Between the foxglove and the pearl
A SIMPLE CURRENT
a slinky little tendon swirls what seems
a meaningless apparel, toting beams
of dark fluorescence into unkempt world,
wrapping cord in chattel, card in cane
until a scopic fracture wreaks
a darting eye, dissolving face,
and every name unsaid.
How can the
pitter-patter spit quite so wetly and
splat so spappily when the afternoon
doorway is empty? Where stands the one
little girl with a handful of licorice?
Recant,
tulips—bark, chains—the sated mare
is charging in the rain, mad-eyed
and rare, and if you stare her down you can
be her, foam-flecked, high-toothed,
whirling on the world, rearing
into this deep breath
You’re in charge.
A SIMPLE CURRENT
POEMS FOR A CENTRALIZED CHURCH
"3 STUDENTS, 1 TEACHER, 5-TRAIN"
GROUND SENSE
FILTER CIGARETTE SENTENCES
SONG OF LUNA
POEMS FOR A CENTRALIZED CHURCH
Poem A
This poem is performed by fourteen spider monkeys who have been leashed to fourteen bicycles suspended upside-down from the dome of a centralized church. The bicycles are evenly distributed around the circumference of the dome. You alone are the audience, standing in the exact center of the dome where the altar, for the purposes of this poem, has been removed. The poem begins with the first sound made by a monkey after all fourteen have been leashed to their respective bicycles, and ends exactly one hour into their first complete silence. The monkeys are not fed during this time.
Poem B
This poem uses the same setting as Poem A, with fourteen mature crows in place of the monkeys, each tied to a bicycle by one leg. This poem has no audience. Instead, in the exact center of the dome stands the tenor Plácido Domingo. The poem begins at the moment all fourteen crows have been leashed, and for the next fifty minutes includes all crow sounds as well as silence. At this point, Domingo will commence an improvisational aria based on the Confessions of Saint Augustine, providing counterpoint to any sounds the crows might make. He may use a watch to determine his starting time, but may not check it once he has begun to sing. Exactly sixty minutes from the start, and ten minutes into the aria, the poem abruptly ends.
Poem C
Fourteen single women under the age of twenty-five arrive and clean the church thoroughly. They take down the bicycles and clean those as well. The women then disrobe, and ride the bicycles naked through the church for as long as they please, though they must ride long enough for each to break a sweat, and should not stop until they feel they have enjoyed themselves. They may take breaks for food and drink if they wish. No one else may enter the church during this time. When they are through, the women dress and leave, each taking the bicycle that she has ridden. The poem then begins, and consists of any interactions that the bodily matter they have left behind—hair and skin cells, organelles, hormones, pheromones, cells and excretions of any sort—may have with the environment of the church, including the molecular structure, air, and any organisms living therein. The audience, of course, includes anything that can sense these interactions, bacteria mostly.
Poem D
For this poem, every object in the church—pews, tabernacles, statuary, baptisteries, everything which is not part of the actual structure—is removed. One hundred remote-controlled surveillance cameras with lamps and sensitive directional microphones are installed throughout the space. Exactly one million flies of at least one hundred representative species are then released into the church. For twenty-four hours, sounds and visuals from the cameras are transmitted through all broadcast media worldwide, including the internet, with data from the cameras evenly distributed across radio frequencies, television channels, and websites. Camera direction, zoom, and volume are controlled by internet users via specific websites, with each user allowed one minute of control time. This poem’s audience is not limited to those who actually see or hear the broadcast.
Poem E
At the completion of Poem D, one hundred priests are admitted into the church to disconnect the cameras. They must dress in secular garb, and may wear goggles, hats, and scarves at their discretion. Once the cameras are shut off, the priests arrange themselves throughout the space, each at a comfortable distance from the others. They have a brief meditation. Then, in his own time and pace, each priest speaks frankly of his anxieties, of anything which is confusing or troubling him. They may direct their thoughts to anyone or thing they see fit—their God, themselves, the flies, the air or universe—but they must speak them aloud. When each priest finishes speaking, he must listen, calmly and intently, to the sounds of the flies to glean a personal message. This poem has one hundred parts, consisting of the sounds that each priest individually and privately hears. When each feels he has heard his part, he strikes a wooden match, then lights and smokes a hand-rolled cigarette while contemplating the sounds or message he has received. The poem ends with the last crushed cigarette. The flies are removed, and treated for any trauma they may have accrued. The priests go home.
Poem F
For this poem the entire roof and dome of the church must be removed, and the floor and basement dug out to an appropriate depth. A representative section of the nearest untouched forest or woodland is then transplanted intact, including all animal and plant life and geology, to the interior of the structure. The church is then sealed for exactly one year, and guarded to assure that no human beings enter. The text of this poem consists of everything that occurs within the structure during this time, and will remain unknown to man.
Poem G
Before the church can be rebuilt, the forest must be retransplanted. This is to be done with utmost care, onto the site of the nearest large bank, which must of course first be razed. A twelve-foot high stone wall is to be raised around the site, and public access limited to no more than four people at a time. Poem G consists of all public comment, both in opposition and support, regarding this action. The specific audience for this poem is limited to those who have made such comment, as well as anyone who made public comment regarding the initial transplanting of the forest into the church.
Poem H
This poem occurs during the rebuilding of the church, which is to be reconstructed identically, using as many of the original materials as possible. Only the structure itself is replaced at this time, without furniture or statuary. The poem consists of every word and sound uttered by the construction crew at the site. Since an apparent audience would likely inhibit the crew members, the audience will be limited to members of the crew itself. Thus I urge anyone interested in witnessing this poem to get your shit together and sign on.
Poem I
Once the new structure is intact, pristine, and empty, it’s time to let in the kids. Two hundred children of mixed gender between the ages of eight and ten are to be admitted to the church with ten superballs each, and let loose for two hours without supervision. They should be instructed to fling the balls as fiercely and wildly as they can, preferably not at each other, and make up whatever games they might. In any case, they will be required to wear protective clothing. This poem consists of all vocal and percussive sounds which occur in the church during this time. The children themselves, like the construction crew before them, are the audience, but must not be told so—those who realize this now or later will do so.
Poem J
For this poem, all wooden seating (pews and chairs) are reinstalled in the church. Freestanding iconography is not to be replaced. In place of the altar, a luxurious apartment, with furniture and accoutrement, is set up. This poem has approximately ten parts, and takes place over so many days. On each of the days, two people who are hopelessly, passionately in love will spend from noon until 11 a.m. in the church interacting in whatever manner they desire—lounging, sleeping, eating, talking, playing, making love. Each part consists of these interactions in any form. The couples may request any additional materials they may require. An even mix of genders and preferences should be represented. The first couple should be between the ages of ten and twenty, the second couple between twenty and thirty, and so on, with each successive pair advancing in age by decades until the oldest possible couple has conjoined. Although the couples will have absolute privacy, this poem’s audience consists of every sensate being anywhere—and I leave these terms wide open. Each day at 11 a.m. the resident couple must depart, and a cleaning crew comes in for one hour to remove any undue mess and materials and set up the space for the next couple. After the final couple has left, the apartment is removed, all doors flung wide, and the church is aired out until Tuesday.
Poem K
You may make your own poem now. The church is open. The breeze is streaming through. The church is alive and waiting for you. Come on in. Feel free to construct any kind of poem you want, for any audience you wish. Here’s some space for you to make notes or document your poem. Just be sure to clean up after yourself.
