Piranhas in the Stomach and Other Poems

Abstract

Can you experiment by stripping things to the basics?

Björk’s Medúlla (2004) is by far her most revolutionary release: yet, the album features vocals only. The record suggests that beat boxing, growls, and squelches resonate louder (and more viscerally) than the finest symphony orchestra. The Icelandic singer’s larynx seems regressive and progressive at once. I am not Björk but I embrace her artistic vision: there is something primal about obsessive anaphora and plain diction which outweighs the sophistications of meter. After all, parallelism and catalogue verse were widely used in epic poetry and other instances of verbal lore. That said, conforming to the long tradition of anaphoric listing does not prevent the imagery from being fresher than a multi-fruit smoothie. Popular culture icons like Donnie Darko and SpongeBob are welcomed into my poetry, where the confessional always blends with the consumerist. What is more, pop art-esque references (“Sad Meal”) coexist with surreal phrasings (“sliced eyeballs”), thus raising questions like: what if Un Chien Andalou was shot inside a McDonald’s restaurant? Or even: what if Salvador Dalì redesigned the logo of IKEA? Juxtaposition is the key to unleash a world where piranhas swim in rivers of gastric acid. Björk’s acapella tour de force taught me this—who said that a choir cannot be paired with a human trombone?