Spring Break
Quirky Poetry Reading at UNCG Faculty Center Not for Laughs
Adam Thorn
Issue date: 11/3/09 Section: Arts & Entertainment
Because of budget cutbacks, the poetry readings that the MFA program hosts at the Faculty Center are sparser. Gone are the delicate pastries and crackers, gone is the complimentary wine - although, the readings are still open to the public. On October 30, Rhett Iseman Trull, a graduate of the MFA Creative Writing program, read from her recently published collection called "The Real Warnings."
The event itself was rather boring and absurd, like the meeting of a garden club. After each poem was read, those in attendance sat perfectly quiet without clapping. People sat still until their bodies started (quite naturally) trying to escape. This was not because the poetry itself was bad or even bland; the Faculty Center is just un-fun. The cracking of knuckles, tapping of feet, eyes that won't stop blinking … revealed something about the nature of the occasion - particularly that poetry and writing in general should be conducive to some sort of celebration, no matter what themes an author chooses to explore.
Trull's poems have appeared in regional magazines such as The Southern Review as well as the ever-illusive Greensboro. Trull and her husband are the editors for the local magazine Cave Wall. On the Internet blog "My Poet Laureate's Lasso," Trull got to be poet laureate for a week in cyberspace. In her poetry, Trull's personal life and the world converge at a comfortable intersection where the writing doesn't come off as overindulgent or too detached.
One poem she read presented a scenario where Superman falls prey to his own power of heightened senses: Unwillingly, he is subjected to a woman denouncing his sexual prowess. Some of the characters in Trull's poems live in insane asylums or have suicidal sisters that used to be happy dancing in their underwear. Some meet their friends at the bar or try to sleep through the night but can't. One lonely narrator lusts after workers at Lowes Department Store and even the mailman. Although the atmosphere in the Faculty Center is little more than elegiac, it is interesting to hear someone read the poems that they've slaved over for months.
Carolinian: Who was your favorite writer when you were in college?
Trull: Definitely John Irving.
C: Do you have any advice for aspiring writers?
T: Read whatever you can get your hands on.
C: Seriously: Would you endorse this as a career - I mean, do you make any money at it?
T: No, the money does not come from poetry. I worked at a comic book shop for a long time.
The event itself was rather boring and absurd, like the meeting of a garden club. After each poem was read, those in attendance sat perfectly quiet without clapping. People sat still until their bodies started (quite naturally) trying to escape. This was not because the poetry itself was bad or even bland; the Faculty Center is just un-fun. The cracking of knuckles, tapping of feet, eyes that won't stop blinking … revealed something about the nature of the occasion - particularly that poetry and writing in general should be conducive to some sort of celebration, no matter what themes an author chooses to explore.
Trull's poems have appeared in regional magazines such as The Southern Review as well as the ever-illusive Greensboro. Trull and her husband are the editors for the local magazine Cave Wall. On the Internet blog "My Poet Laureate's Lasso," Trull got to be poet laureate for a week in cyberspace. In her poetry, Trull's personal life and the world converge at a comfortable intersection where the writing doesn't come off as overindulgent or too detached.
One poem she read presented a scenario where Superman falls prey to his own power of heightened senses: Unwillingly, he is subjected to a woman denouncing his sexual prowess. Some of the characters in Trull's poems live in insane asylums or have suicidal sisters that used to be happy dancing in their underwear. Some meet their friends at the bar or try to sleep through the night but can't. One lonely narrator lusts after workers at Lowes Department Store and even the mailman. Although the atmosphere in the Faculty Center is little more than elegiac, it is interesting to hear someone read the poems that they've slaved over for months.
Carolinian: Who was your favorite writer when you were in college?
Trull: Definitely John Irving.
C: Do you have any advice for aspiring writers?
T: Read whatever you can get your hands on.
C: Seriously: Would you endorse this as a career - I mean, do you make any money at it?
T: No, the money does not come from poetry. I worked at a comic book shop for a long time.
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