Reviews:

Fact: most people are afraid of poetry--we just don't understand it. These people (I, among them) are the masses holding their breath at the end of a poetry reading, waiting for someone to shed light on or even hint at the meaning of the quickly read, seemingly random words they just heard.

Out of the 1,800 students at this school, a mere handful wandered slowly and curiously into the reception for Daniele Pantano on Thursday. When you disregard the sleepy-eyed people listening to their iPods only there for extra credit and discredit the older folks there to support the poet, probably their friend, you're left with an astonishingly small number of people who actually came to listen to the poetry--about ten, most of them likely majoring in art or music and hardly any of them in English. Like I said, most people are afraid of poetry.

Despite the depressingly small crowd, Pantano managed "oooh's" and "ahh's" from the audience with little difficulty--that is, once we got through the poem referencing the desire for a "vicious erection" with which to "impale" certain objects. Pantano defies the Neoformalist poetry--that's poems that rhyme to those poetry-phobics out there--and writes candid yet borderline controversial lines. His short poems get right to the point with incredibly alert and direct metaphors to sex, triumphs, sadness, hiding behind status, and supressing emotions. Though his poetry is about specific instances in his life, he manages to connect with some universal truth, allowing his audiences to laugh, cry, and feel embarrassed along with the author. "Poetry is very personal," he said, "but I try to address the human condition as a whole, to show the reader what they're missing in every day life."

Pantano's brief yet powerful poems really moved the audience. "I like the intensity of short pieces," he remarked when asked why his poems were all short. "Intensity divides poetry from works of fiction. I'm very impatient."

"I do write about my family a lot, and I'm glad none of them read or speak English," Pantano commented during the question-answer session following his performance. The language barrier is probably a good thing, due to his rather harsh words spoken about his mother's suicide and other familial issues. The conversation only got more personal from there, when the Swiss poet spoke of "writing to heal, or at least help heal, wounds."

For those budding poets out there, Pantano offered some advice. First, write for yourself. "If you're not, you're selling out," he stated firmly. Second, "You don't owe anything to the reader, but every good artist needs to be a humanitarian," he said. "That's why Hitler didn't get into art school. No evil makes good art." In that case, Pantano must be a saint, because the entire audience, poetry haters and lovers alike, agreed that he put on a phenomenal performance.