Seven
Beats A Second:
Texan Style
Seven
Beats A Second
Poems by Allen Itz
Art by Vincent Martinez
www.7beats.com
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Three
things I like about Texas: —Tommy
Smith, one of my best friends, lives
there —The
Austin International Poetry Festival* —Allen
Itz
Three things I like about
Allen Itz’s project, Seven Beats A
Second:
—The poetry —The art —The
music
Itz has collaborated with artist, Vincent Martinez, and the musical
ensemble, The Ray-Ghun Show Choir, in this project which aims big, like
Texas, and has a lot of sass. You will find Itz, a self-proclaimed
cowboy poet, to be a welcome antidote to the poisonous
cliché of
the Texan redneck rattling on about nothing and pitching hissing hissy
fits. You’ll find him to be plainspoken – but with
the
right words. His gaze, on any given Texan night, will be fixed up and
out – not just looking at the stars but trying to
pierce
with his poetic vision, that which lurks behind/within the stars.
The words
In fact, astronomical
thoughts abound, linking three significant themes
in this collection: love/lust, youth/age and god/godless. One example:
from the book
–
fleshware
blood
and gristle
forged from trash
of exploding stars,
fragile, short-lived,
prone to sag
and corruption,
helpless at birth,
pitiful
in unremitting decay
such poor use
our body seems
for the eternal elements
of creation
but lightening strikes within
tiny electric jabs that jump
from receptor to receptor
creating art,
imagining love,
finding courage, honor
theories of our own origin,
joy and laughter
to mock the truth
of our condition
so much more
than we appear to be
star dust
offspring of unimaginable light
seeking an antidote to dark
Many of the
pieces have humor to them:
from the
book –
life
is
life
is like a duck hunt
every time
you really start to fly
some
asshole in the weeds
shoots
your feathered butt
right out of the sky
And yet
others have a sweet romanticism – almost
innocence
– to them: from the book –
photo
album
I’d give a year of my life to have that day again
not that last awful year we all face,
the drooling-in-the-oatmeal year, not that
mind-blank-body-broke-spirit-gone year
I’ll give that one away for free
no, I’m talking about next year,
while I still have prospects,
next year, when there might still be time
for a little more rock and roll
under a summer moon,
a little more time for snuggling
on the back porch, watching a winter storm
blow through leafless trees, listening
to the clickety clatter of dry branches,
time for a weekend at the beach,
time to read, time to write,
time for all those things I know
will some day slip away
that’s the year I would give up
to live that day again
And
not-so-innocence: from the book
–
about sex
sex
is about the heat
of rubbing parts together
passion
a function for finely calibrated
friction
some will say
it makes a big difference
which parts do what to who
nonsense
I say
it’s a lot
like chicken fingers
in the dark
parts is parts
you rub mine
and I’ll rub yours
and we’ll sort it out
in the morning
But the ones that I like the best are the ones in which he uses the
authenticity of his South-Texan voice to turn our preconceptions, about
what that voice might say, on their ear and to mock the thing we might
expect him to be: from the book –
what
God don’t
like
I was seeing this preacher fella on tv the other day
and he was saying that God don’t like men fucking men
I
don’t know how in the world he would know that,
except maybe he was talking to God
and just straight out asked him, like hey, God,
what do you think about this men fucking men thing
I’d be really afraid to do that, but maybe it’s ok
for
preachers,
especially this particular preacher fella
since it seems like he’s pretty close to God and
like he must talk to him about all sorts of things
because he’s all the time on tv
talking about what God likes and don’t like
(mostly about what he don’t like, from what I’ve
seen)
not just about fucking, but about all sorts of things
God don’t like, you know, treehuggers and feminazies
and Democrats and evolutionists and poor people
and those wussy-pussy perverts who think
we ought not be killing raghead foreigners
without some kind of pretty good reason
but, mostly what I get from listening to the tv fella
is that mainly what God most often don’t like
are people who aren’t exactly like that same tv fella
so
I’m thinking maybe I ought to study that fella
real good
and try real hard to be as much like he is as I can
then maybe God won’t don’t like me, too
The art
The book is one hundred sixty pages – and there is
art
on
every page. Paired with his poems, the paintings by Vincent Martinez
add visual exclamation points – in some cases. In other cases
the
artwork really looks like a vital part of the poem. And in a few places
the art stands alone on the page – no poem to stand shoulder
to
shoulder to – just a work of art standing up and having its
say
in a way that reminds me of an extemporaneous speaker. In fact the art
reminds me of jazz, having a lot of colorful
“sound” to it.
It looks improvisational, like jazz, and has, in many cases, been
collaborated on. Pieces like “Breath Felt” and
”Myth
Melt” and
“Chicken Wings & Pretty Things” and
“Words Like
Birds” show a vibrant and exciting sense of form and color
while
“Predictable Patterns” and
“Abuelo” have
darker, more complex patterns and evocations. The
collaborative pieces, Like White Furry Cat (a collaboration with
Mark Taylor, and one of my favorite pieces) and Barbacoa (a
collaboration with Dennis Hodges), have the vibrant energy of graffiti
art.
The music The CD, chimeras, ideals,
errors!, recorded by The Ray-Ghun Show Choir,
is a nine track instrumental CD of musical improvisation.
Play list: —1- so much the worse for the
wood
that discovers it’s a violin —2- we have
faith in
the poison —3- the predatory power of the intestinal
apparatus —4- it’s nice to be a champion,
it’s nice to trust
your
moves —5- now is the time of the assassins —6-
I’ll throw myself under the horses hooves —7-
run
fast, but do not move in a straight line —8-move
toward the
blow, not away from it —9- … it ends in
a riot of
perfumes
The verdict I came for the poetry; I
stayed for the art and the music. Allen Itz
has shown, with his collaborative effort, Seven Beats A Second, that as
it is with food for the body, so it is with food for the soul. Why just
have a meal when you can also have drink? Why just have a meal and
drink, when you can also have dessert? Don’t you want
everything
that’s on the menu: meal, beverage, and dessert? And
don’t
you just want it, need it, have to have it, in this instance, Texas
style?
Seven
Beats A Second,
a collection of poems, by Allen Itz, and art, by Vincent Martinez, (the
companion CD, chimeras, ideals, errors!, by The Ray-Ghun Show
Choir included) is available through www.7beats.com
for US $25.00 postpaid. * The
Austin International Poetry Festival, a sprawling (it takes place
in multiple venues all over the —quirky
city of Austin
– with its
white limestone cliffs, sparkling blue lakes – where
tattooed
—wonders
and independent thinkers mix it up with flamboyant
stage poets
and quieter page poets at —readings,
competitions and workshops) event,
held annually and boasting international attendance
—and
major
“pomojo” street cred http://www.aipf.org/home.html
Copyright 2006
Annette Marie Hyder |