Wednesday, April 9, 2008 11:18 AM
My feeling about poetry and its silliness is much like you say—madness or fruitlessness—plus a sense people are competing for a prize that doesn’t exist.
My feeling about poetry and its silliness is much like you say—madness or fruitlessness—plus a sense people are competing for a prize that doesn’t exist.
“the word steals from the word, the sound from the sound.”
He also talked about this moment where he discovered a poem with all this racist
stuff in it, called “Pudding,” and he and ***** considered tearing up the poem, but then thought
better of it.
“Good night nobody / Goodnight mush”. Isn’t that us
too? Mush and nobody?
These poems were definitley deadpan and reminded me that we shld read Spicer together
and think more about his work which is all about the “undead” and all this other stuff that we are
mutually interested in.
Which wld entail any suggestion that we have been “neutral” or “fair” since we all know, even in poetry, nothing is neutral, that there are no unbiased editors, etc.
Just letting you know… there is a futon available for you next week at my place…
This is my main problem with all “experimental” poetry—that it merely
plays, and needs to do something else than play, or take play further. I guess I also think that
people need to write more about each other. Not necessarily as critics, but out of investment, and
genersoity, and genuine concern for each other’s wellfare and work.
[from here on out as an experi8ment, I’ve decided to keep all typos in my email, and not rewrite anything to show you how bad my typing/grammar is without revision]
Wishing I had something more substantial to impart right now, except that I am thinking of you among the darkness of the stacks however bright the day is
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