Ever since coming across the Innisfree Coffee House and poetry bookstore in Boulder CO, I have been surrounding myself with lovely collected works editions of a number of modern & contemporary poets that I have managed not to have gotten before, or have only gotten in general anthologies. Not all have been successes, yet. Ones I should love, I still feel cold about.
New best poetry-book friends:
Ones I’m still warming up to:
Ones I may like but never love:
- Robert Lowell, Collected Poems
I know that this admission will show that I am a vastly inferior person, because I am supposed to be potty about Lowell especially. The music in his works is tightly formed, and I can see that it could very easily be beautiful to someone who is not me.
I need the dreaminess and even deeper music of Bishop and Berryman. Berryman will never be accused of having been too logical and dry. Bishop charted her own course: no dry descriptions of common subjects. She wrote what she wanted.
(back to reading)
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white pebble 