I am bajs

           
                                    
                                         
and wildernesses compass me who dozes in his thoughts,
tumbles into mini-dreams, then jerks awake, confounded
by/ things askew.  About and about on poet blogs these
recent days, category skirmishes in posts and comments
well and wriggle; and even I, foolish elf, have placed
a note or two there and there.  Actually, though it may
yet be too soon to fathom, I doubt the participants will
alter each other's thinkings in any significant ways.   
The best that can come of these dis-cussions is that    
1) the instigators of and the responders to/ them      
   will learn how to stop talking past each other
2) a growth in understanding and tolerance will occur
                                                       
I am not on one side or the other; still, if someone   
were to attend all my artifacts, that someone might be
able to find a box to place me in.  The one box I have
placed myself in is the It poetics box.  Even when I   
plan ahead, i.e., have set an overriding aesthetic for
what I intend to make, the thing, the it, being made
takes precendence.  Poem, ditty, muttob, poemoid;    
or slight and silly, determinate, indeterminate, dense  
and dusky, goulash: the artifact rules.              
                                                       
As I recall, this current round of investigations    
began with K. Silem Mohammad's Relevance posts, 
and when Seth Abramson joined in/ it shifted to trying   
to displace Ron Silliman's long-standing School of
Quietude / Post-Avant divisions.  Mr. Abramson took
a sociological rather than an aesthetics approach,
though it wasn't obvious to some.  Others frolicking
in the fray were Joseph Hutchison, Adam Fieled, and
Johannes Göransson.  There were more, a few of
whom only cantered in comment spaces.  I did both,
sort of, and along the way discovered what seemed 
to me to be an excellent name for a famous football
player: Aristophanes Juvenal Boccaccio.  It's a name
that has a rhythm to it, a name a crowd of fans could
chant.  Definitely, a number of fine insights have 
arisen, but go to where the posts are.                
                                                     
                                                      
                                                       
                                                          
                                                       
                                                   
                                                     
                                                           
Rho00253