A large crowd gathered in Wilson Auditorium for the semester’s first visiting writer, the poet Marcus Wicker, on Feb. 11. Despite the cold and blustery weather, Wicker later remarked that a surprising amount of people had come out for the reading, thanking everyone for braving the elements to show their support. He was invited to campus as part of the African-American history month events taking place throughout campus.
Wicker is a Michigan-born African-American poet, 2011 Ruth Lilly Poetry Fellowship recipient and assistant professor of English at the University of Southern Indiana. His work has appeared in “Poetry,” “Beloit Poetry Journal,” “Ninth Letter” and “Crab Orchard Review.” Much of the work he read was from his debut book, “Maybe the Saddest Thing.”
The event began with a spirited introduction from Michael Waters, professor of English. Describing Wicker’s work as “action painting meets the pop of hip-hop” and his book as one that “crackles with intellectual and sexual electricity,” Waters lauded the visiting writer for his unique blend of audacity, imagery and humor.
Being a younger poet, much of his work was saturated with contemporary references and influenced by jazz and hip-hop. In some cases, this showed through the rhythm of his work, as many poems have an ebb-and-flow cadence that mimicked the break beat style he loves. Others, though were more direct, such as his “Everything I Know About Jazz I Learned from Kenny G.”
Describing himself as being addicted to love, Wicker opened with “Love Letter to Flavor Flav.” This poem, he said, came in large part from how he spent his post-undergraduate education working at an architecture firm, then going home and putting on “Flavor of Love.”
In this, he writes about “How you rapped about the poor/ with a gold-tooth grin./ How your teeth spell out your name.” This humorous look at a well-known figure also commented on how he became so famous. “How you’ve lived saying nothing/ save the same words each day/ is a kind of freedom or beauty.”
Among the other “Love Letters” were ones addressed to Justin Timberlake, chronicling how he skipped school to buy an N*Sync album, and RuPaul, recalling an old commercial in which the 6’7” drag queen wore a pink sequined dress to endorse a hamburger. “How hard, to be sandwiched/ between what and who you are, tickled/ by every cruel wind, critic-voyeur/ playing rough beneath your skirt,” Wicker wrote.
The last poem Wicker read was one simply titled “To You.” This, he said, came about from when he first moved to Bloomfield, Indiana, and was encouraged by one of his students to check out a rapper coming to a local college bar.
“This isn’t so much a poem as it is what happened,” he joked. “I just wrote it all down,” referring to the drunk and disorderly nature of the bar.
“To You” was an impactful final poem, as it ended the reading with the lines, “But if you don’t close this book; I mean/ drop this poem straightaway–you, me,/ that boy, his mom, and every drunk dancing/ fool in this shattered glass-disco-ball world,/ we are all of us, altogether fucked.”
Talon Ribsam, a junior English major, thought he was a great choice of poets to bring to campus. “I really appreciated his love and understanding of multiple genres of music,” Ribsam said. “He took the knowledge and emotion and incorporated them into his poetry
Following this was a short Q&A where Wicker discussed his process, how he came to be a poet and the inspiration behind his work.
“I want to be a poet who can do anything,” he said. In addressing his use of repetition, he credited his love of music, adding, “I’m taking work from rappers and MC’s and just scanning the lines.”
He also discussed his early life, such as how he almost went to law school and decided to drop out at the last minute, but had been writing poems all along. Laughing, he acknowledged that a lot of his work at the time wasn’t good, and that when he got to graduate school, he needed to catch up.
“My poems,” he said, “are funny because they hurt. The saddest thing is the repetition. The speaker keeps asking all these questions about racism and sexism and just when he thinks he has an answer, he doesn’t, and has to ask again.”
In closing, Wicker added, “I write poetry because it teaches me to live better. It’s the lens through which I see the world.”
With that, the night came to a close. Books were available for purchase in the lobby and the poet was more than happy to sign them for the eager audience members.
For other upcoming arts events and more visiting writers, check out monmouth.edu/arts.
PHOTO TAKEN from haydensferryreview.blogspot.com
