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You know them as the vagabond poets squatting in front of Gallery Diet every Artwalk in Wynwood. You know them as the super-stylish-über-sexy-typewriter fetishists, the specialists of dirty limericks, odes about dogs, sestinas on Hialeah, and haiku on lipstick lesbians, car repairs, and robots. They’ll break your heart and make your mother leave your father. They’ll ode the shit or curse the cojones out of anything. They are the Miami Poetry Collective, the ragtagginist group of poets south of the Mason-Dixon Line, and they’re giving a free reading this Sunday at the Miami Book Fair at 4:30 p.m. in Pavilion C.
Attendees will receive a free copy of 5 Cent, MPC’s self-published underground guerilla journal, along with a special broadside insert of the interconnected poems and short-shorts from the reading, all of which are tied together by the common line, “The kitchen was on fire/ and the coffee was free” from MPC founder Campbell McGrath’s poem “Silt, Colorado.”
Sun., Nov. 15, 4:30 p.m., 2009
