Thursday, October 30, 2003
intently (and overall, I was, except for a point when my wine just dropped
straight out of my grip and I had to hide behind the garbage can for a
moment to wipe away the drink from the floorboards) and you suddenly realize
that something is coming to fruition--i.e. That transcendent moment (poetry
is truth and truth is technically refined writing which weathers the mundane
and subverts the pointedness of subversion [No Courtney Love, No!], or in
Culley's case, is "waves of pink carpet" blowing your hair back, i.e. Yo, is
there a window open?), etc. Have you read Stanley's A Tall, Serious Girl? He
sneaks up on you. Culley is fragile but wants to fight. And then we all got
raucously drunk. What a better way to spend a Wednesday? As if we had all
our narrow holes plugged and reopened. Damn, that cork's porous in that thar
bottle. Receptive audiences, there's nothing like 'em. Nothing like creating
'em through your own verse, I bet.
thanks for letting me post this Cori,
i'm reading Peter Culley's HAMMERTOWN poems right now. it's great!