John, I have yet to make an acceptance of the form I must admit but there is
a strange magic there I must also admit. They begin to make sense at a
meditatve level perhaps like the Zen koan. The trouble with minimalism, and
your zips represent that school to a degree I think, but extirpolating the
principal to a ridicuous degree one is left with the pure eloquence of
silence, which is a defensible position probably but renders poetry, words
even redundant. One is then left asking what was all the effort about
anyway. Dont mind me I am just ruminating early in the morning. Regards
Arthur.
----- Original Message -----
From: "John Carley" <[log in to unmask]>
To: <[log in to unmask]>
Sent: Friday, March 22, 2002 8:36 PM
Subject: the heat from my head
> Hi all, this from a work in progress. bw, john
>
> --
> midges bathe in the heat from my head
> before they too are gone
>
> a pheasant calls me all the way from China
>
> oaks pull upward from their moorings
> deep within the floating world
>
> but truly monkey did you give a poet's
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