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Information Blossoms – Ryan Bry

 

Ryan Bry is the two-tone technicolor bubblegum bopper turned dadaist from St. Louis, born and bred and melded in the desolation of perhaps the most singularly American city. Information Blossoms: Poems & Hybrids is a sort of anti-chapbook. It is a poem tome recalling the salt of the earth sprawling majesty of Rimbaud’s youthful exuberance, Brautigan’s mechanist naturalism and the terminal whimsy of Adventure Time. Its range of vernacular invention leapfrogs the gamut from cacophony to euphony, from Lettrism to glossolalia. Percussive, or more adequately, concussive, no one else in poetry bounds, lopes and vaults with this intrinsically wild abandon. Information Blossoms indulges the mother tongue with rapidfire din, delves into dreamscapes and videogames, pauses for reflection over a common memory pool, grapples earnestly with mental illness and alienation, callow and eternal love and camaraderie in stuttering, frenzied staccato machine gun blips and bloops and deliquescent diphthongs. It is a collection of poems in the tradition of great oratory in that it begs to be recited aloud with unstudied fervor. Its dulcet moans and abrasive keening are a new kinetic kaleidoscope, a stethoscope for the wandering bard soul. Let this one snare you from dimple to divot, undulate pigstock nightmares, uncanny okey doke delirium, cherry shampoo, lose pieces of yourself in the mist. In MK, enemies and brothers are the same. Ryan Bry is an old soul with young lungs. Self abasement, Wilhelm screams, fire in the kiln smoldering proudly against the cynical contretemps, ludic absurdism, intoxicating metaphors, colorful contrails, pitch and sway to these randy cadences, daybeds and bay windows, nubile skin in the game, wet fingers on live wire, piss and vitriol throwing down simulations for you to get lost in, leaving the door open, a coup on your conscience, against the stodgy, unmusical nature of modern poetry. Effortlessly follow the pious dreamer, you refugees of the great viral schism, into the cartoon ruins. A dopey bodhisattva awaits you there. The illiberal eclipse casts a long shadow, and Information Blossoms hearkens back to when poets were outlaws, wayward in the wings. Mojo awaits the dream warriors armed to the teeth with mystique, fluidly evocative, tuneful and tuneless, everything and nothing. The antibodies are kicking in to unfuck poetry. Obstreperous, prolapsed future. Plucky and pithy, succinct icebreakers for lovers and great lakes to be submerged in. A salve, a heart valve; squint with me and take a long view of quintessence. Foliate, pineal gland overdrive, serotonin calculus, filaments of gleeful candor refill your feedbags forever. Cerebral shunts, art bullets emporium, winning you over by inches, residual gunning for human debris, solemn observance of semblances of alacrity. A counterculture maverick with the most invasive eyes that wander, irrepressibly eking by on moonshiner glories, vindictive voluptuaries infinitesimally sexy. A brand new Louisiana Purchase for the brand new Parisiens. Long in the toothy and toothsome, be misunderstood, micturate daydrunk eulogies and daydreams, sequelae of a life well-lived, heuristic challenges of scribblings and shavings, of spontaneity. Cantankerous psychedelia, thoughtful and introspective, pleasantly meandering. Information Blossoms.

 

5.5 x 8.5″. 200 pages perfect-bound. Cover Art by Arturo Herman Medrano. 

$10

(U.S. only, email for international orders)

Interview with Ryan Bry

Odds & Ends

Ink

Six Poemz

The Cycle of Swords

The Things that Went Through my Head While Conveyering Screw-on Eyeballs for Mantella Corp.

SHE TOLD ME NOT TO CRY

Last Night Ends Here