There are few things more millions than limbic resonance, that “symphony of mutual exchange and internal adaptation whereby two mammals become attuned to each other’s inner states,” that happens when people are actually in the room, sitting next to each other, and, say, having a conversation.
A couple of years ago, Alex Dimitrov and his friends remembered that people can still be in the same room with each other, in actual time and space, that conversations do not only happen in comment boxes. And with this almost nostalgic premise, they started Wilde Boys: A Queer Poetry Salon.
Last fall, I happened to be in NY for Eileen Myles’ Wilde Boys salon. Yes, the conversation itself was totally compelling, but it was largely from the limbic resonance that I felt happy in such an animal way when I sat on the floor listening to Eileen reading some poems and just talking. It wasn’t a talk, it was just conversation sparking in many directions, and it was in a living room and people were sitting on couches and on all available surfaces. This is what I wish for most of the time, just to be in a room of people talking about poetry. I just want to express plain and simple appreciation for how thoughtful and ranging the conversation was. And as someone who has curated many readings, I also appreciate how consistently Alex has actually carried out the idea for this salon and has done the work, with many others, to make it happen. It’s actually not that easy to do.
And because getting enough sleep is one of the most millions things you can do, I will defer an inquiry into the relationship of millions and hotness for now. Luckily, I made it through the Wilde Boys selection process: