hey i did a poetry reading for the hemingway’s summer reading series. fun times! listen to it here:
i couldn’t have picked a better group of people to do this in front of.
thank you joan bauer, thank you jim cvetic, thank you scott silsbe.
loss is a seven inch record i put out on june 3rd, 2014.
although my name is on the cover, i feel this project was very much an equal collaboration between myself and my friend michael pisano, who created an animated video to each of the sides that is included in the sleeve as a dvd. i cannot express my gratitude to michael enough. check out his other projects here: http://www.michaelpisano.com
listen and download here: https://markmangini.bandcamp.com/album/loss
andy wrote another nice thing about me here: http://www.pghcitypaper.com/pittsburgh/new-releases/Content?oid=1762332
kurt at pittsburgh magazine said: http://www.pittsburghmagazine.com/Pittsburgh-Magazine/August-2014/The-Beat-Augusts-Top-Shows/
and watch michael’s video:
i’m going to keep this site free of ephemeral writing, but i want to add this article i wrote for the new yinzer. you can read it here: http://www.newyinzer.com/archive/spring2013/sound_vision/sv1.html
in case you don’t want to read it, here’s the synopsis: bill was one of a few people in this world who i fully trust as an artist. although the loss of anyone in the world leaves an absence, bill’s was particularly hard for me to recover from. i hope it captures my gratitude for his life.
the color bands is my third solo release, which came out in april 2013. psychedelia!
tracks: color band one; color band two; color band three; color band four; color band five.
listen and download here: http://markmangini.bandcamp.com/album/the-color-bands
andy mulkerin at the city paper wrote a nice little blurb about it here: http://www.pghcitypaper.com/pittsburgh/new-releases/Content?oid=1637886
ghosts, etc. was an art show i curated and carried out the unspeakable act of putting my own artwork in. it opened at modernformations gallery in december 2012. the image above is the only painting i have documentary evidence of.
anyway it was a fantastic show (if i do say so myself) and showcased some of my favorite artists, as well as people, in pittsburgh.
my second collaboration with nathan hall. tame your man is a “living music sculpture” written by nathan dealing with sexuality, gender identity, bondage, music, and all of the other good things in life.
i: so here i am, here we are. one tie leads to the next/and once again i am nothing without you./a physical restriction emphasizes/purity of communication/predicated on trust./in this space we transcend ourselves/and our lives and our words./how many times do you need to hear/that love is all we need?
ii: and with you, together, i know only of what i feel; that i can express directly/with no intervention, without artifice./a half dragging the dead weight of the day from place to senseless place–/but here i can breathe again./i can think/feel/express with/a clarity that makes no sense in the day/to day world/you put your hand in mine and i believed./you spoke and i understood./we know no ambiguity./we have created a new reality.
iii: it works as a focus/one note, one point, a concentration./the dissonance doesn’t resolve; it ceases to be./i don’t need you anymore transitions to i am you now/we are fused in that heat, dependent on the other to breathe/to feel, to be./you do not have to chase after me now because i have given myself up to you/have put myself in you, am bound to you./we are one focused point in space.
tame your man premiered on november 9th and 10th at the atlas black box theater in boulder, colorado. watch a few youtube clips here: and: -2012
my first collaboration with nathan hall, a brilliant composer, artist, and all-around beautiful human. i am completely humbled to be a part of this artwork, which features ten of my poems in it’s liner notes.
so nathan was living in iceland at the time, and he emailed me a piece of music, to which i wrote a poem, and then sent him the poem. he would take my words and create a piece of music inspired by them, and the process repeated itself for probably about 9 months. it definitely captures the feeling of a journey in a new land, and the images and music will forever be tied to my conception of how iceland feels.
in addition to nathan’s compositions, other artists who lend their hand to this project include: will dyar, ragnar kjartansson, sally bozzuto, and many others.
a: pouring black/coffee into black/mugs while morning/light displays the pane/across your back.
you can’t start again: you can’t you can’t start/another wise-blood wish craft/when every little bone/sends another split down/someone else’s spine./we can play and play/weasel with rocks and do things/in the dark with our mouths/create new spaces to be/that we never even knew were always there/if we could look beneath the folds/beneath the fabrics and into our darkest parts./you can’t start, you can’t/start again.
on the origin of the sun and the moon: what then now, you/ask about the coiled body/wrapped hugging legs/warm with wet/sliding toward, through/sliding away. then it moves/retrieves knife from drawer/and returns without missing/a beat. i don’t want to chase after you, you/say as the blade slides down thighs/separates skin from skin/skin from muscle. pull back/a bit you say, and i do/so wet tissue sits braided/exposed gleaming and softly/ticking with temerity to/the tempo of our pulse. i listen/listen but cannot understand the inflection/of your language upon mine/so instead we just stare with fascination/at the wonder of how we work.
for emily: inside photographs of wooden church interiors/i saw six silver circles floating above/where my head could have been/would have been had i been standing there/standing there in the picture./i would have sang you a song/full of notes and other things, maybe/notes i’d written/down in journal entries and those circles/i can’t stop thinking hold/my missing words/beside sounds, intertwined with sounds/or without sounds. alone/and just hanging there above/nothing but the wooden floor and/a modest little altar in the rear./i wish i could close my eyes/&/let the smell/knock me the fuck out.
the purpose is to cut: the purpose is to cut not pull or stretch but cut looking/inside and back outside and down, backwards. using the/application of a directed force sharp instrument separating/into two where once there was one neatly, to multiply./the sketch of an earlier drawing the plans for a monument/never mind the fact that it was never built or that it was/impossible to build or it was built and subsequently removed/made imperfect by photographs, refer to it as the thing, a/phonetic abjection, edges left indistinct but this was just/there appearing suddenly it had always been there then it/was gone and it had never been.
love poem for two pauls (and the laugh of a girl i’ll probably never meet): he buried christmas lights in dirt/filled boxes then himself/at least partially inside a wall./he built a staircase on a roof/and filled boxes then himself/at least partially full of meat/and you just laughed. i love you.
i don’t want to chase after you: plucked string and voice waiting at the end of the hall./the meaning of the word stop, the undoing of teeth/from mouth one by one, there’s blood but not much/a sound like a hum, a humming with lips. humming/with blood and spit on fingertips, like bees./teeth pile up on the floor, an impossible amount. there’s/no way you have that many teeth, end quote/but there they are, roots all sticking out, crooked little legs bent and wet/and reflecting beams of pink light. she keeps humming all the while/reaching in digging deeper pulling apart humming with hand/in mouth. out they come, one by one/each one louder than the last. that’s going to take a lot of stitches/end quote but she just keeps humming, humming/softly and piling herself up on the floor.
i don’t want to chase after you (part 2): here’s a crayon now let me etch/a little something on glass/slivers, reflections showing ways/to make a place thinner/and curved so it could fit about anywhere/slowly pouring through glass./come closer, squint yellow/behind dusty water green deserts/thick and seeping/over dirty glass, records repeat/tumbling as promised until/the cycle stops. reverberating/down gold with lips flowing back and/around in time and then saying it again. in event/of a shattered mirror arrange for an echo. time/can always make whole again.
phase: spinning on a string, lift glass in salutation/check books records return/home and dissolve into drone:/in a saturated space you can see past/movement of arms and fingers/fact checking wasted from spinning./characterize time and money celebrity/culture with examples from text/fashion forward decays inside cooing reverberations/in dark maroon viscera. here’s your glitz/and your glamour end quote. white collar/endless war, endless war/repeats a beautiful man in a yellow dress/black beads tracing veins on his neck.
loop: after morning there is just a black/circle left sitting alone on the black/counter top. the light from the sun/eased across the floor where we mis-/understood words and didn’t say even more./this is it end quote, yes this is it.
buy the album here: http://nathanhall.bandcamp.com/album/the-origin-of-the-sun-and-moon