Thank you to Rob Mclennan of DUSIE press for publishing my poem, two strangers underneath a city.
This is a poem about finding love on the subway and the intimate space shared with strangers. I have since turned this poem into a song called Plastic Seats for my poetryband collective Hydrogen Junkbox also featuring David Lawton and Zita Zenda.
I’m excited to perform a new piece exploring subway love this coming Saturday, March 18th, at Cornelia Street Cafe, alongside some of my favorite NYC poets: Steve Dalachinsky, Matthew Hupert, Jane LeCroy, Puma Perl, Thomas Fucaloro, and George Wallace.
Cornelia Street Cafe: 29 Cornelia Street/NYC @ 6pm $10 (includes a beverage)
Someone once asked me: do you play any instruments?
I answered: My mouth. And also my hands to turn the dial of the radio.
Now, I can say: ukelele. And cookie drum. And stoop sale tambourine a bit too.
I am part of a marvelous poetry/music collective called Hydrogen Junkbox, alongside David Lawton and Starchilde. We aim to merge poetics and various forms of instrumentals to create something a little magical on stage.
I’m excited to announce two upcoming performances:
MONDAY FEBRUARY 20th: VOICES OF THE RESISTANCE @ LA MAMA 8:00-9:30PM
Poetry Electric Presents:
VOICES of the NEW RESISTANCE
Against the President on President’s Day!
TICKETS $10
@ LaMaMa (the downstairs space) located at : 66 E. 4TH STREET/ NYC
Beats of THE BEATBOX HOUSE (Kaila Mullady & crew)
along with all-star POETS & PERFORMANCE ARTISTS:
Liza Jesse Peterson, John S. Hall, Puma Perl, Alex Tatarsky, Jane LeCroy, Jeff Wright, Heide Hatry, Maria Muentes, Peter Spagnuolo, Susan Yung, Norman Stock, Bruce Pandolfo, Hydrogen Junkbox (Aimee Herman, David Lawton, & Starchild), Jimi Pantalon & friends
FRIDAY FEBRUARY 24TH : ICONS IN ASH: DEATH IN ART @CENTRAL BOOKING 6-8PM
TUESDAY, JANUARY 24, 2017:
BIG WORDS, ETC. reading series @ Wendy’s Subway 379 Bushwick Ave, Brooklyn 7-9pm
This month’s theme is a meaner way to say it. I’ll be performing a new poem-song written just for tonight!
THURSDAY, JANUARY 26, 2017:
FISHFOOD MAGAZINE FREE FORM MIC NIGHT @ Parkside Lounge 317 E. Houston NYC 7:30-9:30pm
FishFood Magazine is doing what it does best, enthralling itself in all forms of art and sharing it with others along the way! The literary and creative arts mag is hosting a small free-form mic show, featuring poets, spoken word artists and musicians. Individuals will come together and showcase their talent either poetically or musically or both. Stop by if you’re in the area!
FREE Admission / TWO drinks minimum – Come one, come all!
Hosted by Aimee Herman~
Performers include:
Aimee Herman and David Lawton (Hydrogen Junkbox)
Yesenia Montilla
Craig Kine
Cheryl J. Fish (as read by Natalie Rogers)
Jeanann Verlee
Omar Holmon
Gabriella Belfiglio
Jane Ormerod
Marcio Garcia
Tonight, I’m looking forward to performing alongside the magnificent Trae Durica in my poetic play, postulation.
What happens when two lovers reunite after being left? Come to SIDEWALK CAFE and find out!
SUNDAY AUGUST 7, 5:30 P.M.
Sidewalk Cafe
94 Avenue A
The East Village
Directions: A/B/C/D/E/F/V to W. 4th St.
Directions: F/V to 2nd Ave., L to 1st Ave.
Venue is at East 6th Street
7th Boog Poets’ Theater Night, featuring:
5:30 p.m. postulation by Aimee Herman
5:45 p.m. Skin of A Spell by Jenn McCreary
6:00 p.m. The Triumph of the Thirteenth Family of Passerines by Maggie Dubris
6:15 p.m. The Body in Equipoise by Joel Allegretti
6:30 p.m. Stage Wrong: Triology by John Trause
6:45 p.m. Unfinished Acts by Christine Choi
7:00 p.m. An Excerpt from Tacoma Method by Zhang Er
7:15 p.m. Shakespeare’s Itches by Susanna Rich
Sometimes we pick up a book at the exact moment when those words were truly meant to be read.
Last summer, the inspirational oil painter in Seattle called Lindsay, reminded me of a writer called Richard Brautigan. I asked Lindsay to recommend one of his books to me and after reading that (The Abortion: An Historical Romance 1966), I couldn’t stop myself from reading more of his prose and poetry.
Since then, I have been writing letters. To Richard. On pieces of paper, receipts, blank pages in books I happen to be reading, in my notebook, on benches, on the palm of my hand when there is nothing else and I don’t want to forget my words to him.
These letters are sometimes inspired by his words, but often they are just a one-way conversation about what I may be thinking at the time: death, loss, love, poverty, gender dislocation, an old crosley radio, a stolen meditation pillow and the moon.
On Tuesday, March 29, I will present some of these letters alongside the brilliantly marvelous singer/songwriter/magical wonder called Rivky.
WHERE? Dixon Place located at 161 Chrystie St./ NYC
WHEN? 6:30-8pm
Dear Richard Brautigan is an epistolary musical adventure to the Beat writer from one poet to another on how to remain; how to be human amidst the traumas of war; gender dislocation; shattered love & expired lives.
Aimee Herman is a genderqueer writer, performance poet & teacher with two full length books of poems.
Rivky Gee cherishes her Yiddish roots & is seen performing for those on the periphery & in the underground Hassidic culture. Rivky’s work fuses together the new &the old world in the way that only NYC allows, in its effortless & electrifying contrapositions.
originally published by great weather for MEDIA
When I was twenty-six, I gave my body away. But also at nineteen. And maybe twelve. Details are unimportant and have already been documented through ripped skin and hollowed tongue, so instead, I’ll make a mix tape of the trauma:
&
I’ll alphabetically list colors that could create a collage bright enough to illustrate it:
or
perhaps it is even more accurately documented in this transcript which traveled from public bathroom floor to underneath chuck taylors to my hands, raw from —-
X: It meant nothing.
Y: Only if nothing means the carpal tunnel syndrome of wounds.
X: Pardon?
Y: The numb. Knowing there is something there, waking up. Trying to yawn out of skin, but—
X: It can’t.
Y: Nothing means nothing anymore. Everything is found. Known. Cut-up into an argument.
X: But. But it can go away.
Y: Only if away means a permanent disconnection of hypnotized raw. The uncooked symbolism of everything that has been taken.
X: Or given—
Y: Yes…away.
