//SOME CONTEXT

a rhizomatic patchwork. uncentered. interfluxing. alive. 

a mixing of what we heard, what we read, what we said.

a way to see what our language was (shaped by).

or rather...something. some thing.

the “we” here, unfixed. though at the level of instigation, “we” meant (and still means) maryhope|whitehead|lee, claudia nuñez de ibieta, and ryan greene, the co-conspirators behind EL L¡BROTORIO [¡!] PR!NT RUN, a roving open-air book lab in the phoenix metro area which is a project of F*%K IF I KNOW//BOOKS.¹ our instigation took the form of an invitation, and so naturally our “we” expanded.

during april (national poetry month) of twntytwntytwo, we shared an open document called subsuelo // subsoil where we invited our communit[y/ies] to create an intervened cento with us. by this we meant a composite text where lines from existing poems could live alongside (and interlace themselves with) newly created lines. a shifting document where mutation was encouraged and fidelity de-prioritized. contributors to the document could leave their initials at the top or remain anonymous. engagement ranged from small modifications to lengthier and iterative (re)writings over the course of several weeks. 

though traditionally centos are interested in faithful attribution, here our goal was more adulterous. as frequent collaborators in co-translation, we often delight in the multiplicity of mouths cacophonizing within seeming singularity. even in supposedly “untranslated” texts, we know that polyphony abounds. as mónica de la torre puts it in her poetics statement for the angels of the americlypse anthology, “…voice necessarily ventriloquizes, necessarily voices.” in other words, speech as cento. tongue as tongues.

our invitation to subsuelo // subsoil was made in the hopes of foregrounding (and thereby celebrating) this mingled voicing. the document served as a recorder, gathering the asynchronous chorus of the poems in our ears, the texts on our minds, the words flowing through our communit[y/ies] and into a shared digital space. it also became a home for several “convocentos” (conversational centos)² created through a process of “transcriptional poetics” that has emerged as a part of EL L¡BROTORIO [¡!] PR!NT RUN. 

as to the identity of the centoed sources themselves, we maintain a position of simultaneous doubt, suspicion, and joy: doubt because, given the openness of our invitation, we do not have (and, in fact, cannot create) a full tally of all the phrases drawn from existing texts; suspicion because, while we believe in the power and importance of attribution, we are also skeptical of the urge toward (and belief in) “certainty” through comprehensive cataloguing; and joy because, like kameelah janan rasheed, we delight in the “leakiness” of intertextual relationships and the honesty of not knowing.

here, though, is a partial (and gratitude-filled) listing of writers, texts, and conversations whose language seeped its way into subsuelo // subsoil ––

writers // amber mccrary, oscar mancinas, june powers, jen/eleana hofer, chawa magaña, noa micaela fields, stefania gomez, libba cotton, bojan louis, besmilr brigham, mónica de la torre, fred moten, ross gay, nikky finney, frankétienne, dolores dorantes, giancarlo huapaya, sawako nakayasu, ofelia zepeda, roque raquel salas rivera, sara uribe, jd pluecker, jocelyn samaoya, and more, and more ...

texts // online explanations of dendrochronology, academic articles on environmental racism in south phoenix, research methodologies for otolith dating, a risographed collective zine from the 2019 tijuana zine fest, snippets from the emancipation arts indiscernibles anthology, and more, and more ...

conversations // phrases gathered during time spent outside in april with friends and community members at cesar chavez park, at the lip of the 7th avenue pond on the north bank of the rio salado, and at verde park.

the printed version of the book [available through Arteidolia Press] is a physical artifact of our digital collaboration. it also serves as a multilingual extension of the original version of subsuelo // subsoil. here, the left-hand pages share the text as it emerged in april twntytwntytwo, while on the right we’ve added a corresponding co-translated text where english and spanish switch places. 

as you worm your way through this wordworld, we hope that you’ll help to keep the soil churning, adding new lines of your own and modifying existing lines as you see fit. may you find life in these poems, and may they find new life in you! <3

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1. visit www.fiikbooks.org/rove to explore the bilingual digital documentation of EL L¡BROTORIO [¡!] PR!NT RUN, including narrative reflections, scanned collages, photos, audio recordings, and more. a huge thanks to hanan robinson who shared time, creativity, and conversation with us MANY times during our first year of the project – we’re delighted to know you! thank you also to the Arizona Commission on the Arts, whose 2021 Artist R&D Grant helped to make EL L¡BROTORIO [¡!] PR!NT RUN a reality.

2. to see scans of the convocentos we created at cesar chavez park along with some reflections on our process of “transcriptional poetics,” check out our contribution in the June 2022 swifts & slows.