Contributing Editor Interview -- Christopher Newgent

Christopher Newgent posts poems in Indianapolis, IN, where he writes and works in bike advocacy. You can read more about Christopher at his blog, http://theidiom.net. We asked him some questions about Indianapolis and about posting poems.

How would you describe the part of Indianapolis that you posted poems in?
Most of the poems I posted in Broad Ripple Village, one of the 3 art districts of Indy. For my first time out posting, I decided to go to a place where they'd be a bit more receptive to the project. Bripple is a strange part of town though, because as much as it's known for its art scene, it's known for its club scene, so on the weekends, there's a really strange mix of people, from crusty buskers to shiny, sun-drenched college girls.

What's the literature scene like there?
Sparse and scattered, but growing I think/hope. There are a number of great writers in Indy (Bryan Furuness, Andrew Scott, David Shumate, Victoria Barrett, Sarah Layden, &c.) and many others within an hour or two drive, but Indy lacks anything to really draw them together. Victoria has been doing some great work with the Writer's Center of Indiana to rehash the Indy Underground reading series, which I hope really takes off and provides something of a common ground for everyone to drink some Sun King beer and nerd out. I'd love to see the lit scene here grow into something similar to the art scene here, which is underrated (as is everything in Indy) but thriving.

What makes Indy different from other places?
What I always praise about Indy is its sheer potential. Indy isn't really a city for those easily bored, but it's a city waiting to wake up, I think, a city waiting for its leaders. Unlike NYC or Portland or even Chicago, if you start a really solid and exciting reading series here, you're the only one doing it--you're the one everyone's been waiting for to step forward--instead of being just another guy/gal trying to start a reading series. Often times, people interpret that as Indy being a dull and lifeless place, but really, I see it as the breeding ground for some creative and inspired people to start something great. And, as I said earlier, I hope Victoria's rehashing of the Indy Underground is a similar catalyst; I wish I had time to do more for the lit scene, but bike advocacy eats most of my lunch and weekends, and to take on another major endeavor like that would break me. For now, I'm content to chill and support Victoria and Indy Underground by promoting and attending and hopefully rabble rousing.

If you come to Baltimore, I'll take you out for crab cakes. If I travel to Indianapolis, what should I eat?
I freaking love crab cakes, so I might have to stop in Baltimore before AWP next year.

Hands down, I will take you to Yats, this cajun/creole restaurant where you get a mess of rice and delicious cajun fare (etouffe, jambalaya, &c) for like, $5. I actually posted one of the poems on a table at Yats; you can see my plate of chili-cheese etouffe w/ crawfish in the photo (see image).

I suppose Indy doesn't really have its own cuisine, so to speak, but we have some amazing standouts. If you weren't opposed to gratuitous amounts of meat, we could go to Jockamo's Pizza and split a Slaughterhouse 5, this pizza tribute to Vonnegut w/ 5 kinds of meat.

Is a poem that hangs in Indy different than a poem in, say, Flagstaff, AZ -- if it's the same poem?
I used to believe in the idea of Anywhere, USA, but I've found so much more difference in cities since I've started taking more pride in my own. A person in Flagstaff is going to have different social and cultural experiences to draw on when they read a poem and that will affect the meaning of the poem in its own way. Just think even of the air--a Flagstaffian might read a poem dryer, warmer--whereas someone in Indy would swim in it.

Cities have their own rhythms, too, which I think they impart on their citizens, and you can hear it in language and dialect. Listen to a New Yorker read the same poem as a person in Indy and I guarantee you'll hear and interpret it differently. Granted, that's maybe an exaggerated difference, but I think it still appropriate.

What draws you to hanging up poetry? Is it a literary or community occasion, for you?
Very much both. In my head, I love the idea of someone sitting down at the table at Yats and reading the poem and being exposed to something they might not otherwise seek out. I think most people only understand poetry as the stuffy dead guys they were forced to read in high school. And if they come across a poem from someone living and writing today, maybe they'll see poetry isn't all Shakespeare and Thanatopsis. Not that Shakespeare isn't great, but it's not the best introduction to poetry. Even I hated poetry until stumbling across e.e. cummings in high school, and that was by my own doing, not because of being lead to him by a teacher. So maybe someone will read Molly Gaudry, or Jamie Iridell, or Jimmy Chen's haiku and be intrigued and go to the isReads sight and unlock a world wholly foreign and incredible to them. And that inherently grows the community by introducing more readers to great, living poets and writers. I suppose that's idealistic on my part, but why not strive and hope for that?

I know you're into biking, in what seems to be a political way. Does doing isReads stuff touch on similar impulses?
I'd almost say the exact same impulse, but the politics I think operates as more of a means than an impulse. My work with bike advocacy stems from my desire for community-building and sharing something that I think is fun and beneficial for everyone. The political element to bike advocacy stems from the need for government support, safety education, and infrastructure like bike lanes and bike parking to get people on their bikes, especially those newer to cycling who might not feel as comfortable in traffic. isReads is a bit different in the sense that it doesn't take all that to get people reading. It just takes exposing them to a sentence that taps into something deeper in them. I suppose one could argue that community-building is itself a political act, but if that's given, then what isn't?

What place have you found that really seems to be perfect for the poem?
My wife actually found the ghost sticker graffiti where I placed the Stephanie Barber haiku (see image). I love the placement of it, and how placing it with the graffiti creates an association and interaction with the art, and in turn the art community. I have to admit, it's kind of out of sight in the sense that it's at ankle-level, but I hope perhaps that people make an effort to read it, that people see it and the graffiti and are intrigued enough to stoop down to read the poem.