>It's interesting: I have commented rather generously in the past on your
>poems, including when you have posted them. I have always taken those as
>poems even though they are, in their phenomenal form, posts. But you,
>apparently, don't even *recognize* my poems when I post them. What is a poem
>to you? Apparently not what I take poems to possibly be.
When is a poem not a poem? When it's phenomenally a post? I've thought
about this. Sending my poems to brit-poets - as though making a long-
distance phone call & saying "oh by the way here's a poem" & reciting it
willy-nilly to the unwilling listener. Is this too cheap? Prynne
would never sacrifice the white space around his poem to this sort of
pushy commerce. Offended fit though few.
O Kentbote, there is no such thing as a possible poem. It's either a
poem or not. YOU are a poem, effervescent, uncanny. Your epistles
are a commentary on yourself, the Poem - but only commentary, not the
poem itself. Your de-centered author, KinKent, comments incessantly,
ad gaudiam, ad nauseam, comments, comments, advances fraudulent claims
on behalf of a non-poem in order to deny/press forward the true poem: Yourself.
Bodkin, you hate the Poet who is yourself, you don't believe in him -
but you love him nevertheless, Johnson - you: not Kinbote, not Pessoa,
not even Johnson - you, Thomas Mann (you even look like Thomas Mann)
on your magic pile of tricks for weirdo convalescents (Opus 132).
- Henry Shade
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