Drop
log
on my foot.
—Robert Creeley*
The writers I adore and read more than any
thing to glean any bit of their history, who they
were/are, who they knew, anything of them, etc.
That seems to be the difference between the
ones I appreciate and the ones I learn to love,
devouring whatever I can get out of them. This
is about poetry. One could argue against it. One
could says it is celebrity, it’s gossip, and I’m not
going to go against that notion, but it still is the
delineation between who I read and with whom I
truly devote my time. That says something, I
suppose quite a bit, perhaps, about me. And may
be it’s not exactly good, but it is who I really am.
*This seems to place Creeley up at the top of my favorite list,
but this has not been determined, and may never be. Time might tell.
