Publisher's Synopsis
Poetry. HELLO HELICOPTER. Or hello helikos? As Robert Smithson tells us of his Spiral Jetty film, not so distantly from Kyle Schlesinger's poetics: 'For my film (a film is a spiral made up of frames) I would have myself filmed from a helicopter (from the Greek helix, helikos meaning spiral) directly overhead in order to get the scale in terms of erratic steps.' Much after Clark Coolidge's own 'depositions, ' and affinities as disparate as Larry Eigner, Larry Fagin, Frank Kuenstler, Bernadette Mayer, Lorine Niedecker, George Oppen, Ron Silliman and Rosemarie Waldrop in Schlesinger's poetry language bifurcates geo-glyphically forming mantles (veils, plates) for a metapolitics of the person determined by intense logics of sense. Joyrides into exteriority, these lapidary (drilled, mined, refined, chiseled) texts find form in an 'everyday' (read: actual!) practice made ambivalent by the twin indiscernible points of paramnesia and paronomasia, rushing upon History and the instant where 'memory survives necessity, ' forging 'a fold between these folds / / then helicopter'. 'It all comes down to this...'--literally. So dig it! 'Fossils have terms of their own' and these poems endlessly propose, so carefully degreed--Thom Donova
