RE: Is it me?

Been spending a good bit of time online lately....checking blogs, following links, hitting publishers and journals and other stuff in the poetics universe. Now I am left with the overwhelming impression that re-acting and reacting and acting and over re acting to each others productions (in the widest definition)is the most common pastime in the poetics universe. Do folks really give a fuck, give a rats ass, give a crap that much about what the 'other' is or is not doing. To spell it out for a change: What the Fuck? I am really unable to make up my mind if these folks that are in dialogue over this and that are taking themselves seriously.

Nothing original in this: I know what I like. That is what matters. I can recognize it. I can recognise not it and turn away.

Blah blah blah.

Maybe something in this. When I came up it took time and cost money to find and purchace and get ahold of and follow what everyone was doing across the space. You had to track someone down and send them $ and hope something came back. Or find a store or a friend. Seems like one didn't waste time or money on something one had problems with. Heard Bly once and never again spent time or money on THAT!

Blah blah blah.

RE: Ken Irby Reading new Collected

Ken Irby's new book The Intent On (collected 1962-2006) is out and he, Ken, will be reading it from 4-5:30pm on Feb 4th at the Union Bookstore on Campus. If you see this you should go.

Following Ken's signing and reading, George Kimball and George Forman will be talking in the whatever building that is just north of union. Check a KU schedule somewhere.

Unless of course the union catches fire.

RE: Thinking about these ladies today

Sue and I were in Laos a year ago and this photo taken late January at Wat Phu southern part of country That's me on far right looking like a ghost. A 5th century ruins of temples on high hill overlooking Mekong Valley. It was a long walk up and it was hot. These and other women were selling flowers, incense and other 'gifts' to honor what was still going on at this place. It was an amazing spot to sit a spell and these ladies showed no offence from my joining them for a bit of a rest. Fat old white guy who was not chewing beetle like any aware person would be and they were. I guess just a moment ago reading some of the poetry blogs I click thru every day...reading the doomer/gloomer stuff from a couple folks.....all that....(bury your gold friends) seems so, well, off the track I guess. Maybe since I am turning 69 this year, I can somehow relate to these women (not really, I know that)

only, and I mean that, only that we have all lived a long time and know damn well what lies ahead and that future cannot be made worse by minute fluxuations in financials. We are going to move along to something/somewhere else. Period. So....now, here today in the what, 15th day the temp hasnt gone above freezing ...I recall and I stare at this photo and recall being on top of some world so unknown to me that all I could do was not think about it and just look down over the old stone, the valley, the river below...I could do what these ladies were doing...but for sure not keep up with them.

Well that is what travel is...not being here. No more.

RE: Note to P. Smith

Hi Patti,

Geez I tried to stay up to watch the documentary on PBS last night and lasted pretty far into it. But, alas, not till the end. Almost. But not all of it. Was great though came on too late at nite. Forgive me. It wasnt desire that sent me to bed. Couldnt stay awake. That simple.

McCrary