Simple language, complex effects.
A poem about a story about a man
Whose song becomes a never-ending poem.
That is, a poem about a poem.
Ars poetica, indeed.
This unending poem is like a home that protects and shuts out the world,
With an attic “where aesthetic and spiritual innuendoes / Float.”
Leakages occur across the inside-outside divide,
Life and art with their competing demands.
This poem by Terrance Hayes deserves a wide readership.
But remember to open the windows
And let the world in.
Yes, you.
Ars Poetica For The Ones Like Us
November 15, 2014a word with you, please
September 21, 2013Four people have said my recent posts were poetry.
No, they’re only experiments in spacing.
That and nothing more.
It’s a wholesome affair, really.
My sentences are leaner as a result.
Simpler and easier to understand.
I like pleasant shapes and patterns, too.
This gestalt intrigues me more than a paragraph.
Except the top line is too damn long.
I’m tempted to remove a word. Resisted.
I offer this explanation because you might suppose me of versifying
And not succeeding on a truly grand scale.
That and the experiment will continue till I’m tired of it.
Next: A Clean, Well-Lighted Place.
If you’ve not read this story, take 10 minutes to do so.
It’s really quite extraordinary.
Till Tuesday.
Best.
Postscript. I deleted two words in the top line.