Poets With Shitloads Of Money & Fabulous Friends
Q: What unites reality show star Whitney Eve Port of MTV’s The City with poet du jour Frederick Seidel?
we at vowel movers are looking to address several critical areas largely ignored by audiences of contemporary poetry. first up: swanky poets & money. we’re calling it LUXPO. we’re not heroes, really, we just want you to adopt a more diplomatic approach to poetry and maybe fucking enjoy something without critiquing it to death. to facilitate this process we recommend reading things by or about poet Frederick Seidel. it’s all very velvet & lush, no?
The man is sumptuous. He hangs on the edge of a red-leather banquette behind his regular corner table at Cafe Luxembourg, cradling a second espresso, and his ash-colored suit—made to measure by Richard Anderson of 13 Savile Row—fits so perfectly that it looks like it was dusted onto his slender frame with a box of confectioners’ sugar. More excellent still is Seidel’s voice. When he says “past” it comes out “pahst.” His friend Diane Von Furstenberg had it right when she told me “Fred is a very luxury man.”
take note unsuspecting poets everywhere–while you were reciting a vow of poverty a la lihn dihn nee lauterbach, fs was chillin Parisian style with dvf. they brunched & had suits tailored while you were giving handjobs for adjunct positions. SUCKAS.
o, and let us not forget the ducati’s. only a man who hangs with fashion designers is confident enough to roll around the back roads of sag harbor on a six figure crotch rocket custom built in Bologna. apparently dvf already gave fred the whole “most important relationship” speech…