12 May 30 - June 5, 2024 dallasobserver.com DALLAS OBSERVER Classified | MusiC | dish | Culture | unfair Park | Contents Gray managed to build a decent following on social media with this work. Many fans of her poetry were originally engaged online with those short-form pornographic films but started keeping up with her literary endeavors on Instagram and even ordering print copies of her self-published poetry zines. “It’s two different audiences,” Gray says, “because I know some viewers don’t want to hear a poem [over X-rated content]. That’s not what they’re subscribing for. But a lot of people are really into it, and even start conversations with me about certain lines in the poems and ask me to send them more of my poetry stuff.” This generation may better accept the modern-day reality that subsidizing one’s true calling requires a day job or a piecemeal living wage. Creative types are unsurprisingly creative about making money to survive. Dallas is trending upward as a burgeon- ing literature hub with international atten- tion drawn to Will Evans’ work at Deep Vellum Publishing (including a feature pro- file in The New York Times), the recent es- tablishment of a poet laureate program by the city and a growing annual literary festi- val. So what can Dallas do for its poets? Be- cause, as they say, they aren’t experiencing much increase in opportunity. Ratcliff proposes practical ideas like unionization and a city-funded poetry prize. He’s finding that poetry readings in places like music venues, where a protocol for pay- ing performers is built into the business model, holds a lot of potential for the sus- tainability of live events. Sebastian Paramo, a poetry editor at Deep Vellum, believes Dallas is actually los- ing poets, who are often forced to leave the city because there are no postgraduate col- lege poetry programs in Texas that provide students with a financial stipend. “I grew up in Garland, but I ended up go- ing to Sarah Lawrence College for my MFA,” Paramo says. “And there are other people that I know from here that end up going to a different city to study creative writing, you know, when it could be something that they could do in their backyard and promote the stories and lore of Dallas, which I think is very much needed in the field of poetry.” On the idea of leaving Dallas because of literary aspirations, local icon and National Endowment for the Arts Master Poet Rawl- ins Gilliland values the determination it takes to stay. “In the 1990s I could have lived any- where in or out of Dallas,” he says. “But I wanted the racial and ethnic working-class harmony I had built for myself in a part of my hometown that others eschewed. Today I am 79 years old on a fixed income yet able to actively be the occasionally starving poet I grew up here to be. … None of this was mine by leaving home.” By far the most accessible resource for poets in Dallas is the city’s poet laureate of- fice at J. Erik Jonsson Central Library. Most people don’t realize that the new role is more than honorary — it’s intended to serve the public as well. Gabbert holds office hours at the library every Wednesday starting at 2 p.m., when any Dallasite can walk in to seek her insight on topics like career guidance and navigat- ing submission opportunities. If you bring in your own poems for her to review, she’ll even provide you with a constructive cri- tique session. Faye finds the lack of resources for poets in Dallas even more difficult to contend with for Black writers. But outside of traditional publishing models and the often exclusion- ary world of fine-arts academia, Dallas’ rich spoken word and slam poetry scene was built up for and by underrepresented Black voices in the literary community. Slam poet Ashley Davis hosts the monthly event FluidFridays, the largest LG- BTQIA+ open mic night in Dallas, and she believes that spoken word is often over- looked in the world of poetry. “I can’t speak for the entire scene; how- ever, I think even in the literary community there is division,” says Davis, who writes and performs under the name C.R.U.S.H. “For a while now, the slam poetry scene has been heavily participated in by people of BIPOC Kathy Tran Poets no longer need to leave Dallas for literary aspirations. The city is becoming a literature hub with new institutions. Kathy Tran Dr. Mag Gabbert is Dallas’ poet laureate. Culture from p10 popularity of audiobooks, only 4.8% of adults listen to poetry via broadcast, re- cording or online streaming. The SPPA re- port no longer measures the percentage of people listening to poetry at live readings; the number is too small. Published poet Reverie Koniecki is a K–12 educator in Dallas, and she’s found that she has to make a stronger effort to teach poetry in the classroom. “I don’t know if it’s just not the cool thing to do for [kids], or if they have other interests,” she says. “I had a creative writing club and we only had four members. But then we did a con- test [for the whole student body] and found all these other students who are wonderful writ- ers. But when I’m teaching poetry, they’re in- timidated by the poetic structure. They don’t understand it right away.” Koniecki finds hope for youth interest in poetry, however, by spending the extra time to engage students. “Once we go through it a couple of times. ... They do have an apprecia- tion for what the author has done,” she says. “They’ll tell me that they like the poems.” Young-adult poets outside the academy may not necessarily expect the craft to be prof- itable. Some may have the ultimate dream of being a full-time poet, but it hardly seems at- tainable, and some say they’ve accepted that. Eva Regicide, a 27-year-old trans femme poet, recently entered the poetry scene. The Oak Cliff native writes on a mechanical vin- tage typewriter that she usually carries with her. During the day, she builds golf simulators for a manufacturing company. On her own time, Regicide writes poetry and performs with a Rocky Horror Picture Show troupe, Los Bastardos. And she’s content to be doing so. Last year, Regicide started attending readings and reciting her work at The Wild Detectives. The Bishop Arts District book- store/bar gem has robust poetry program- ming presented by local organizations such as The Writer’s Garret and Verb Kulture. She enjoys the democratized setting of open-mic events and feels welcomed by the poetry community there. “It was a little intimidating at first, when I first started reading my poetry,” Regicide says. “I’ve been used to doing burlesque and Rocky Horror, so I had experience perform- ing on stage. But it’s different to be playing a character, rather than sharing something more intimate that almost feels like a piece of you. But it was very exciting at the same time to finally be able to share really per- sonal work with a bunch of people who want to do the same.” Scarlett Gray is a millennial woman who’s found an innovative way to integrate her work as a poet into her livelihood. When she worked at The Taschen Library inside Dallas’ The Joule Hotel, she had enough downtime behind the counter to write throughout the day. And when she started creating adult content on the website Only- Fans after work, she turned that income stream into a vehicle for her poetry. “I’ve always liked film, and people have al- ways told me I could do voice-over work. So I kind of ran with that,” Gray says. “So the main thing that I’ve done on OnlyFans was making explicit films with poetry read over them.”
