O'er at Mark Doty's blog, he's posted a nice talk about Brenda Hillman and how one may navigate different schools or encampments (or entrenchments) of poetry. There's the argument to be made that both Doty and Hillman are on *that* side of the fence over there, and hence no biggie.
But there is no fence. Not really, is there? Just as there's no third way. And this because there's no second way, or first way. There is--say it--no way at all.
Your non-poetry friends say this all the time: Poetry? No way!
And if you're like me and have no non-poetry friends, well, then, the jokes write themselves.
There are not enough minutes in the day for me to enjoy all the blogs I'd like to enjoy. Or even find them. Turns out I've not been checking up on Buck Downs blog since November of 2007. And he's there on Mark Wallace's blogroll that I've been too lazy to read. Here's a post with an audio of BUCK DOWNS reading. Coincidently, Downs, Wallace and Heather Fuller were the first local poets I ever heard read in DC. It was a reading for the short lived but excellent journal, Membrane. Wallace read some his penny-a-liner sonnets, which I thought was the coolest concept. Lines of poetry having a monetary value! That's gold.
But aren't there distinctions to be made, even in poetry?
I'm sure there are. What they are, I do not know. I would like to see an exploration of bravery vs. cowardice, avoidance vs. engagement, risk vs. safety. Perhaps this will lead nowhere. But that is how we proceed. To be proven wrong is a great honor. A poem is something that should get you into trouble.
I was going to use my newly acquired audio clip implantation skills to embed this (caution: explicit language, bad spelling and grammar):
But couldn't figure out how to do it.
What does this have to do with poetry. Two suggestions:
1. Write a letter to poetry breaking up with her (or him).
2. Write a poem about the experience of breaking up and making up with poetry.