The POEMobile Dreams of Peace

Abstract

The Brooklyn-Queens Expressway (BQE) is bumper to bumper. Up in the cab of the POEMobile, I can see a clear and beautiful view of nighttime Manhattan on my left, but curving ahead for miles along this crazy, twisted excuse for a highway, traffic is at a standstill. I'm returning home from the POEMobile's celebration for the Muslim holiday of Eid at Diversity Plaza in Jackson Heights, Queens. The POEMobile is a magnificent, brightly painted, poem-bedecked art truck with painted iron wings arching above its roof and poems in a two dozen languages emblazoned on its side--beneath which hides a dilapidated 1988 Chevy Step Van, which could conk out at any moment. The name POEMobile is inscribed in cut metal above the cab above the Pablo Neruda line: Llego lapoesla a buscarme / Poetry came in search of me. The POEMobile, sponsored by Bowery Arts + Science and City Lore, projects poems onto walls and buildings in tandem with live readings and musical performances in neighborhoods in New York. As poets perform in their native languages from the street or plaza, the words float above their heads, often several stories high. The projections open with an animated, feathered wing brushing words onto the building, inspired by a Martin Espada line: "God must be an owl, electricity coursing through the hollow bones, a white wing brushing the building." [ILLUSTRATION OMITTED] With the POEMobile stuck in a classic late night New York City traffic jam standstill, my mind wanders back to our recent programs--a Russian/Ukrainian Yevgeny Yevtushenko tribute on the Bowery; a Persian Norooz/ New Year celebration in DUMBO, and both a Korean and a Chinese New Year celebration in and around Flushing Town Hall in Queens. Specially designed software enables poems in their original language to morph into English and vice versa. The community experiences the impact of the poetry in their spoken tongue, while the English-speaking visitors and neighbors grasp the deep poetic experiences of the foreign language poets they live among. As traffic inches forward, one car length at a time, my mind muses on this guerilla poetry, set up in diverse urban neighborhoods, creating momentary beauty in words and music and light, and traveling under the radar of both news outlets and, for the most part, the authorities. Under the radar. This contraption travels under the radar. That's what sparked the traffic-induced dream.... World War III breaks out, and the aides are under attack from all fronts. The crew of the POEMobile is out of work, as all funding for the arts has been summarily axed. The new AXIS powers of Iran, Iraq, Korea, China, and Russia move to take over the world. It's a scene right out of a cheesy Hollywood movie. The Allied powers are on the verge of collapse. Our Nighthawks, Raptors, and drones can't penetrate their missik defense systems. Our counterattacks are continually repelled. Hey," I say to mypartner in crime, the poet Bob Holman, director of Bowery Arts + Science. "Remember? This thing flies under the radar." Without warning, jet engines appear on the POEMobile's iron wings, and this crazy contraption takes flight. Bob adjusts his helmet, electricity coursing through his veins. First stop, the peace rally in Washington Square. We need CJ, our projection maven. …