Monthly Archive: December 2003

pastel ceases secretive: my brainfolds sparkle with distrust put on clothes and pet the hound of night a bullshit machine Soporphronia

Just a few more notes… apparently laying the burdens down improves volubility in the blog… Besides the poems about place I want to write extremely truncated novels or screenplays. In lieu of writing a...

I went to the library and checked out three slim novels by French writers. Why is it that French writing seems so appealing? There is no way a poem set in “Stamford” could appeal...

Sometimes you just have to throw that burden of responsible behavior down. I’m lucky I can do that. It’s a luxury. Not that I was irresponsible today. I did some holiday shopping. What works...

An inhibited sadness extending like frost. Too many blocky paragraphs, small type. They seem impenetrable, igloos stuffed with cotton, no way to get a worm into the ear. I read the essay on Jacob,...

Not really – just a comment about this feature. I resist the “extended entry” because I want each entry to have a shape, to cohere, hang together. It’s the poet’s eye, foreign to the...

Today I laid out the “poems” from the brown journal in two columns and printed them out on scrap paper, landscape. They leapt into life as a “book.” I saw more that needed to...