Saturday, October 23, 2010

RE: Format

Part B

I just can’t believe if ever the thought you don’t know how

you have no idea idear you couldn’t possibly

Not much thrown up over a life time time to look back and

realize that nothing gained for lack of trying just substitutes

sweat for grit who needs that either

Just coming to terms with all that time wasted here sits one

pumped out hole in the spirit life trudging across across me like

three times twenty or some such mathematical possibility but

don’t now no don’t ask

Why it matters it matters not just because but just and all

solutions rendered seem pointless at least and dull now posted

Take all of this please if it is a moldy joke just gather up and walk

away before I have to write more

What’s more this dreams don’t matter no more just one after

another looking for a way out of one more too tight space that is

what is left

Saving the best for last aint like what I made it up to be.

                                                           (smokin w/william-1991)

Thursday, October 21, 2010

RE: Lovejoy by Phoebe Wayne

Just received new publication from c_L books, Portland.  Lovejoy by Phoebe
Wayne is tremedious work.  A somewhat difficult task to take up a person or anothers persons work and 'write about it'.  Well Ms. Wayne has and well she has done it.  Mazal Tov to her and James Yeary who made the book.

Here is Phoebe Wayne's blogsite and she talks abut the book:

Here is James Yeary's website.

Here are some lines from the book:

"The Lovejoy Columns are distant lost damaged personal
   and historical/social, Commercial from transit beginnings
          to development to art-commerce moment of all our
        bunched ideals frenzying over each face of glass and
 framed ditch.  Framed by park, salvaged industrial beams
                                             etc.  Framed by Real Estate."

Wednesday, October 13, 2010

Thursday, October 7, 2010

RE: Ted Hughes WAS the worst poet of 20th Century

Lawrence Journal World, October 7, 2010 (AP London)

Proof found after all these years that Ted Hughes WAS THE WORST POET writing in the English language in 20th century.  Britian is all up after new poem is found 'detailing the day his wife Sylvia Plath committed suiside".    And it seems perhaps that this  may have contributed  ...his fucking poems were so terrible she had no escape.  Isnt that obvious now?  I dont even mean to belittle Ms. Plath here....what I am getting at is that perhaps she realized and that might have been part of her depression...what a great fake her husband was.  Here are some lines quoated from the newspaper this morning that were  on the Brit Tee Vee " in a dry quivering voice by actor Jonathan Pryce...". 

"...I lit my fire.  I had got out my papers. 
And I started to write when the telphone
jerked awake, in a jabbbering alarm,
remembering everything.

     It recovered in my hand,  a voice
like a selected weapon
or a measured injection coolly delivered
its four words deep into my ear.

     "Your wife is dead."

Another reason why a whole lot of folks believe that poetry just doesnt matter and should remain locked in the closet of academia where it belongs.  Ugh.