lunes, 16 de julio de 2012


There are no bath salts secondary effects that can be compared to a night on Friday the 13th when violence met poetry.  Last Friday the Museo de Arte Contemporáneo de Puerto Rico was the host of a terrific get together of exquisite corpses of crème de la crème poets. The host was brief cold about what was in store. The purpose: listening how a group of honorable artists of the cutting edge word portrayed their own nightmares through their own and unique metaphoric boo hoos. Jason was not around but Lyn is pretty sure that if he had been present he would have, at some point, struck his ax right in the middle of the podium. There was sexy corpse stories by Monsieur Rafah Acevedo, oozing funny punch lines by Mademoiselle Nicole Cecilia Delgado, a rotting zombie murmur by John Torres, a scary movie by Aurea Maria Sotomayor and brightful sequins being dragged in the dark by Angel Antonio among other hell raising stories. 

The reason for that freaky evening was to have a blood toast with Carlos Rivera Villafañe's exhibition "Manifestaciones de lo humano", a visual and horrorific voyage through the artists apocalyptical visions in our day by day reality encounters with death and violence. "Poetry is busy: poemas demasiado humanos" put together by Madame Yara Liceaga is a hair raising effort to keep poetry alive and screaming within the main stream walls of a museum that is constantly running for it's survival. Lyn is pretty sure that the Museum curator Madame Lilliana Ramos Collado has been essential part of these violent strategies to keep the institution away from the claws of slow rot away.

"Pistola en concreto". Carlos Rivera Villafañe. 1996
Thank God it was only Friday and at some point it was going to be over to give way to Saturday. The next day Lyn woke up to realize that the night before was not scary enough, that the newspapers were still delivering the worst nightmares with the difference that the perpetrators of the stories did not have the grace to tell them the way that la crème de la crème poets would do.

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