CAConrad

In the apothecary of CA Conrad’s Mountain Throat Temple , poems are not tradable commodity goods but fleshy residue of repetitive learning “how to climb out of these factory-like structures”, these cocoons of conventionalized predictable suffering we called modern (human) life. CA opts instead to work with more ancient technologies – the body and the blood – in surreal rituals aimed at awakening the paleolithic memories stored in “flesh, be it human or of other animals on the prairie, by the bay, in the city, or incarcerated in prisons or zoos.” Whether they are communing with the dead in the morgue of a refrigerated grocery aisle or absorbing the vibrations of field recordings of recently extinct species, CA’s actions become prayers to the Earth, hastening the pressurized release of an “extreme present”  where the “furniture of future wastelands open to us” and “the unexpected inserts itself” and we can” fall in love with the/world as it is” a vibrant place “we didn’t think/we could open/up like"the fractal/drop to hear/our own/harmonics/in the muffled/underground/hum of seeds."