"To be an innovative poet on the Left Coast (or anywhere) is like shouting your truth to an empty (or at best half full) room. This is especially true if your innovations don't match the practice of the current reigning innovation. Iván Argüelles has never been a L=A=N=G=U=A=G=E poet, though language-tongue's parlance-is at the heart of what he does. Hearing him read his work aloud is a deep pleasure, but it is also here, on the page, in octogenarian splendor. As Pound, late in life, said of Eliot, after Eliot's death, after decades of output: Read him", Jack Foley. "Two poems per morning from…mehr
"To be an innovative poet on the Left Coast (or anywhere) is like shouting your truth to an empty (or at best half full) room. This is especially true if your innovations don't match the practice of the current reigning innovation. Iván Argüelles has never been a L=A=N=G=U=A=G=E poet, though language-tongue's parlance-is at the heart of what he does. Hearing him read his work aloud is a deep pleasure, but it is also here, on the page, in octogenarian splendor. As Pound, late in life, said of Eliot, after Eliot's death, after decades of output: Read him", Jack Foley. "Two poems per morning from the beloved Iván Argüelles cascade in reverse each overcoming transcendence. This sonic inversion choirs joy, choirs that are speaking-being behind us crablike. This morning: "Is there anything in the sky that looks like the world?" To paraphrase Zbigniew Herbert, the poet with one wing commands the stars to fall and there is light. This is that light coming and going", Solomon Rino.
Author statement: I borrow what I can from multiple sources, from Virgil and James Joyce to Cesar Vallejo and Philip Lamantia. I often write at white-hot speed, and indeed at times in epic furlongs. The experimental often automatic nature of my writing is always looking for new spatial extensions. I consider each new piece to be a challenge, for I do not want to repeat what I have already done, but rather hope to embark on some new direction each time. I would be remiss if I did not emphasize the emotional nature of my work: the fundamental dimensions of the universe dilate with great unspoken sorrows. The intellect is a poor excuse, and reason has no place in this cosmos. Words are merely sounds open to interpretation. Each vowel has its own meaning. All languages say the same thing, embroidered with retroflex consonants, clicks, glottal stops and missing punctuation. The author of some 48 titles, I remain an enigmatic, marginalized figure in the illusory world of official literature. - Iván Argüelles
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