A no good poet. But I think I know better, so I’ll change the
sentence ever so slightly (just not subtly in the least?) to
“Sometimes I’m a no good poet.” Am I thinking then hahaha
I know that I am sometimes if not often if not usually a good
one? No, I’m too hard on myself, for one thing, and the project
(this one) that I’m working on calls for daily poems, which, by
their very nature can be fraught with written-quickly syndrome
a syndrome, by the way, that I do not find distasteful at all, are
not edited much, and I’m usually fine with that, too. But also, I have
not edited much, and I’m usually fine with that, too. But also, I have
my poetic heroes that I feel I don’t measure up to, and as I continue
to live I feel that more and more and less and less. Less and less
as in who cares, probably. More and more as in my heroes have
become more human and how is that a bad thing? I’m sitting here
in almost complete darkness except for the light emitted by my
still-somehow-charged tiny dinosaur lamp reading a poem that
should or very much could easily replace the one I wrote most
previously in this very compendium (or whatever this 20-plus
year project should be called, is called, well it has a name, so
I do not know what I am going on about here). But this poem
answers the question or ponderings posed in the section
above all too clearly. This is a real poem, unlike the mostly diary-
entry or journal-entry delivery of facts that is the previous piece. It
gives the feeling of what I went through so much better by being
less direct and more emotive. Or something. It is a poem by
Kim Hyun from a book seductively entitled Glory Hole, and it was
apparently originally written by this South Korean poet in his
native language and translated to English by Sunhun J. Ahn and
Archana Madhavan (the translation feat itself boggles my mind).
From Seagull Books, put out in 2022. The poem is entitled:
Dear Old Miss Lonelyhearts*
of “Dear Old Miss Lonelyhearts”
Note that the asterisk belongs to the original poem and refers to six
individually asterisked notations that follow the text of the poem.
Because I feel further compelled, as I cannot disregard such an
obvious duty to my readers, should there ever be any, to sell this book
to you I shall quote three sentences of the poem’s text, found on page
74 about two thirds of the way down the page:
When I reached the alley with the fire station whose watch tower had
fallen, the clouds spread soft legs. From dark genitals, a bright yellow
light trickled down and gathered like dew at the hole. In the cracked
pavement, the sundrops pooled like raindrops.
above all too clearly. This is a real poem, unlike the mostly diary-
entry or journal-entry delivery of facts that is the previous piece. It
gives the feeling of what I went through so much better by being
less direct and more emotive. Or something. It is a poem by
Kim Hyun from a book seductively entitled Glory Hole, and it was
apparently originally written by this South Korean poet in his
native language and translated to English by Sunhun J. Ahn and
Archana Madhavan (the translation feat itself boggles my mind).
From Seagull Books, put out in 2022. The poem is entitled:
Dear Old Miss Lonelyhearts*
of “Dear Old Miss Lonelyhearts”
Note that the asterisk belongs to the original poem and refers to six
individually asterisked notations that follow the text of the poem.
Because I feel further compelled, as I cannot disregard such an
obvious duty to my readers, should there ever be any, to sell this book
to you I shall quote three sentences of the poem’s text, found on page
74 about two thirds of the way down the page:
When I reached the alley with the fire station whose watch tower had
fallen, the clouds spread soft legs. From dark genitals, a bright yellow
light trickled down and gathered like dew at the hole. In the cracked
pavement, the sundrops pooled like raindrops.
