Under the weather for awhile. First an icestorm, then the flu, then the usual stress.
In the meantime, more ghastly poems in the mail box, more horrid poems everywhere.
Mangled sentences do not a poem make. Why is the simplest of all theories the hardest to get across to people? If one cannot say something directly and with simplicity, maybe one should not say it at all. In a great effort to claim creativity, poets twist words and meanings into a mix of vomit and fecal stuff. Don't mangle everything, don't codify.
Sunday, February 11, 2007
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