Volodymyr Bilyk

Volodymyr Bilyk is a writer, translator and visual artist from Ukraine. Editor at the Kitchen Poet from December 2015 to June 2016. He enjoys spending his days strolling down the beautiful streets of his homeland and an occasional beer with a beautiful maiden of his choice.

Who the hell is this guy?

Volodymyr Bilyk is a guy who is too irritating to be in one literature. So he decided to be in two. Because vanity. He's good at writing stuff that will blow your mind. Check out his Laugh Poems or Heartbeat, Footclick, Machine Gun Vocalizes.

Here's what he said in his interview for the 3am Magazine:
3:AM: Is there an ethical energy that underpins experimental poetics do you think?
VB: Maybe. For myself, I can describe it by quoting a line from Pink Fairies song – “Don’t think about it – Do it! It’s Rock and roll and the message is – Do it!” – something like that.

Some points of his life can be described as a promo campaign for the videogame Daikatana. He too occasionally releases his own "Suck It Down" things and then spectacularly fails only to do it again some time later.

He also drinks and smokes too much to be tolerated anywhere in Western canon.

History with UB

Aside from frequent posts with his own poems and translations since 2013, Volodymyr released a book of poems titled "Laugh poems". It consisted from the material he wrote for the Underground Books in 2013-14 and some other stuff written around the same time, including his famed translation of Vasilisk Gnedov's masterpiece "Death to art".

He was an editor of The Kitchen Poet from December 2015 up to June 2016. He then stopped doing it because the "thrill was gone". But now he's fine and ready for action once again.

READ AND PURCHASE LAUGH POEMS w/ UB MINI BOOK INSIDE "DEATH TO ART" BY VOLODYMYR BILYK

LAUGH POEMS w/ UB MINI BOOK INSIDE "DEATH TO ART" BY VOLODYMYR BILYK

From the unused blurb written by Gary Barwin:
"Volodymyr Bilyk ’s poems laugh and grapple with what the cachinnation catches in the throat or in the act. Here poems gag (“Rift by gob”) and are gags, both laughable (“sly dogging”) and meaning-muffling (“Lasting ruff gorges”). They leave the reader agog (“canny trump overflows”) with the raw (“rash yaw”) plenitude or platitude or platypus of language and meaning-making of this moment’s anti-mutter. We “[g]ad around the muck,/ It's about matter,” and it does. Inhale the exhilarating exhalations of Bilyk’s book and marvel at the dazzle he unmuzzles, all the while screaming new murmur."