“A Whistling Kettle: An Exhibition of Haiku Comics,” that I co-curated with David Lasky, provokes a mixed bag of feelings. It’s like when I heard the punk band Ramones broadcast on radio for the first time. And when I saw 1970s street art and graffiti were taken inside to be exhibited and sold in art galleries (RIP Keith Haring). And when I discovered I wasn’t the only angst-riddled teenager that read MAD magazine (thanks to my dentist’s office).

It’s feelings of disbelief that the things I identified with were now being mass marketed. Disappointment at losing another counter-culture fixture to the mainstream. But also pride that things I admire and worship were deemed worthy and valuable. In the end, this validation increased my hip credentials — I knew about an art movement, a music scene, a zine before a lot of others caught on.

We are all students and explorers. The haiku comics here are the direct result of classes taught by Lasky, a comics artist learning about haiku. I’m seeing first-hand, as a poet learning about comics (and trying some myself), the transformative power that pictures and words have together. (See the note on “Illumination” in A History of Poetry Comics #05, part of my attempt to define poetry comics.) I believe the best poetry comics create a third meaning that words or pictures can’t do on their own.

This show collects works that transcend what’s hung on the gallery wall. There are underscores and counterpoints. There are kireji (the “cut” in Japanese haiku) and kigo (the season word in Japanese haiku). There’s context, witnessing, confessions. There’s complexity and simplicity sometimes in the same work. And there’s illumination — that “third meaning” that happens when your mind jumps beyond the words and pictures.

For me, this show is validation of the exploration we poet-artists have been doing on the fringes of both comics and poetry. It expands the audience for our work. And it makes us feel (perhaps) a little less like outsiders.

Enjoy the hip credentials!