“Vodicka’s Psychic Privates is a patchwork of soundbites both lovelorn and predacious, spreading its fishnet-clad legs around the entire upturned pelvis of modernity from Renaissance to millennium. With its signature tongue-in-cheek punning and deft attention to sound-based polysemy, Vodicka’s style is simultaneously singular and symptomatic of a larger ‘degenerational’ impulse toward theatrical ( burlesque) satire of poetry’s most perennial obsessions—love, sex, nature (that messy murderess), the epistle, the sublime—all in the balls-out apocalyptic register of a prophet-goblin whose negative capability engulfs the whole spectrum from zealot to skeptic, fuck boy to coy mistress, curse words to King’s English—‘a horrifying morass’ wherein ‘the twain’ indeed meet.” –Dylan Krieger, author of Giving Godhead & dreamland trash
Kim Vodicka is the spokesbitch of a degeneration, "a softer-spoken, more genteel Lydia Lunch," according to The Houston Press. For the past decade, she has toured the country performing sound poetry in bookstores, dive bars, art galleries, cafes, diners, festivals, pinup clubs, vintage clothing shops, rooftops, backyards, and places of worship. She is the author of three full-length poetry collections—Aesthesia Balderdash (Trembling Pillow Press, 2012), Psychic Privates (White Stag Publishing, 2018), and The Elvis Machine (CLASH Books, 2020). She is also the creator of a poetic comic book series, a chapbook of sound poems on vinyl, and an illustrated book of poetry. Originally from south Louisiana, she currently lives in Memphis, TN with her beloved cat, Lula. Cruise her at kimvodicka.com.
In Kim Vodicka's latest book, an examination of the perverse, the sexually exotic, and all the filth covering our very Puritanicalesque filtering has the potential to leave the reader feeling bountiful with knowledge and a playfully scathing understanding of our consumptive playground. Highest recs going beyond the typical language-death of recommendations. Take a few spasms of time and fully soak in this bubbly mass of truth.
It was hard for me to rate this. Large portions were so dark and clever that I was rereading them over and over to soak in them. Other bits were obscene in a more childish way that made them feel overdone. For me, the strong outweighed the weak.