This chapbook borrows moments and language from Lorine
Niedecker, GM Hopkins and John Keats. Parts of it are
loosely in echo-speak with the figure of the loon. Parts were
composed when prompted to onsider reverberation as a
shape of sound in the month of October (homework for
Listening Class at the Bay Area Public School). From my
inquiry into calendric sonics, I can confidently encourage
everyone to listen for reverberations in the month of
I originally encountered Husserl’s concept of hyletics in
Derrida’s On Touching, which I mistranslate here to stand in
for what might be alive within the senses.
Keep walking into the swell it too blossoms gamma
oblit ripe. Air turns fruit into rot. I leave, trusting
fruit. Pond fronds vacate, transceive me in the
blowing path. Smell mid-marvel my rib oblit trill
ions away. Hello deep earth, speaking unconcerned.
“Marry me” “Do we need a gun?”
Laura Woltag's poems have been published in the anthology It's Night in San Francisco but it's Sunny In Oakland, Try, OMG!, and installed alongside the Deer Creek Trail in Nevada City (by Unmanned Minerals). She lives, at present, in a severe drought, where she translates GM Hopkins into dead languages to try to make it rain. She participates in the Bay Area Public School, a free, collaborative project in participatory pedagogy in Oakland.