Sunday, A/drift, a Daisy, Agog


"Yours is a weirdness/I tackle with giant love." --Brett Price

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Poetic Texture: the relationship between a poem's surfaces and its depths, its form and its content, what it knows and what it invents...

between its line breaks, diction, syntax, etc. and the meaning(s) that all of it points to.

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Giant anxious.

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Sloppiness: sit right down, stand right up, fall into a poem. This requires not only discipline and formal means, but also obsessive attention and heartfelt imagination. Ironically, perhaps, this is about practice (as in rehearsal) and inclusiveness, and also the willingness to fail everyday (to hit and miss, but mostly miss -- and furthermore to include the "missing" as a concrete part of process -- that is, as a part of the poet's actual work for all the world to see. Corso, Berrigan, Welch, Blackburn...)

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"My hand a vast big empty one." -- Nate Pritts

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My life, my mind -- a net, a jet, a falling into a starfish, a bedsheet, a poem, a going a going a gone in the air. Mostly I can't catch its drifting, the leaves in Ohio, the trees...

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"...intelligence when used well in a poem, never makes the reader feel less smart than the writer, or left behind. Rather, it gives the reader the exhilarating pleasure of being smart in concert with the speaker." -- Tony Hoagland

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Giant love...