I am in here.
Has anything you’ve ever written scared you? Maybe not during the writing of it — perhaps that only startled you. Or it could be you don’t even remember it, and look at the resulting page wondering how it got left in your hand. But you look at it now, in the light of day, as … Continue reading writing
Disgusted at the newer poets I found on the bookshelves at the store today — deliberate craziness and obfuscation. They’re trying to be obscure and flighty and too-private-for-you-to-understand. It’s all a formula, I’m convinced. But, they’d say to me, you have to write a certain way to get published. Forget that. Fads are for teenagers, … Continue reading disgusted…
I am currently trying to read the poems of Hart Crane. It is difficult going so far because I have not yet gotten his particular “rhythm.” By “rhythm,” I don’t mean any metrical pattern, but something more indefinable — not quite his way of seeing things, more his “word fingerprint.” How he sees, how he … Continue reading the tao of Crane
white pebble 