Whoever might be missing the power of the spoken word will find themselves taking a breath of relief at meeting with Bob Holman. The one who started the Bowery Poetry Club is a man dedicated to the so-called lost art, and has given the city something to listen for. He’s been working in the world of words long enough to be considered a veteran, and walks with ancestors who know the lay of the land as well as anyone. It’s easy to be a false prophet in the city, claiming a reinterpretation as a new invention, but he makes no false claims, and it quick to give credit where it’s due.
Drawing on resources and institutions like the Nuyorican Poets Cafe, and the legacy of Ted Berrigan, this coffee house started with a very clear-eyed notion that this was an impossible task. Poetry in the 21st century is harder to sell than dust in the desert. The metaphor is apt, because there’s plenty of it, and the owners here don’t have illusions about making money hand over fist.
They don’t need to, because it’s earned the recognition of the poets themselves, and being acknowledged for your integrity by your contemporaries is the hallmark of a true artist in these days. They do get merits of a more public nature as well, earning distinctions of the Best Spoken Word place in the city, among many others. The list of poets speaking here is also impressive enough to suggest it’s worth the time to leave the luxury of the hotel and see what the city sounds like.
Mentioning Homer, Holman recalls Julian Jaynes impressive theory about consciousness, and contemporary consciousness coming out of the death of inspiration. There was a time when we all heard music in our heads, and could hear divine voices speaking, and maybe the poets today still hear that, or maybe they just speak until it turns into song, and we remember who we are.
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