Hi David, thank you for you BC. Did you ever receive my reply? It was long
and articulate and tried to unravel some issues which you raised and which
I doubted could be solved. I liked your poem very much, a part the last
word, stupid, which in Italian, ‘stupido, trivialize the state of dementia.
The otehr comparison I can think for this poem is allusive chronicle. I can
see the presence of reality in it distinctively. Could you use ‘fool’,
instead?
Let us suppose that death is our future common good coming from another
sphere: writing.
This pattern shows affinity with Foucault of course. I am reluctant to
speak theory, in this mined field of spontaneous poets who feel their skin
burned to the idea that poetry lives on this dynamics. These ‘poets’
imagine a world where each single poem they lay on the ground– their golden
eggs – is received with an applause. We now well that this is not the case
and that to write a poem is entering a challenge. Now, we are not playing
the Bologna anarchists: far from it. And poor Prodi.
The technique which has been applied so far to solicit response has allowed
the non-theoretical poetry to burst into its outrageous flames and
annihilate itself: red Phoenix. This is what manifests itself, no?
Practically, each flame will show its unction.
We have elited the notorious theory of self-combustion.
Now ,for a concrete example of this method we propose some other
comparisons. And so on.
Ciao, erminia.
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