Saturday, January 3, 2009

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

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