A stunner, Doug. Gunslinger, Cohen, Camus are, of course, evoked
immediately, but from the start this has its own wordplay, its own
word-engendered ludic metaphysic, dizzying the mind. This is a sonnet
for today, casually preserving the form in a vortex of ideas rushing
very sibylantly to a close.
mj
Douglas Barbour wrote:
> The Stranger walked slowly into his eyes
> worked slowly into the resistant mind
> continually resisting The Stranger kind
> in our midst to dispose of such all the lies
>
> told stranger than fiction a faction
> a factor in decisions made the fade
> toward empty existence made
> essential only in crap shoot action
>
> elsewhere how else explain
> how The Stranger strides out
> of each page of unfelt doubt
> larger than ever seen in plain
>
> sight situational substantial
> less loss all too existential
>
> Douglas Barbour
> Wednesday September 20 2006
>
> Douglas Barbour
> 11655 - 72 Avenue NW
> Edmonton Ab T6G 0B9
> (780) 436 3320
> http://www.ualberta.ca/~dbarbour/
>
> Latest book: Continuations (with Sheila E Murphy)
> http://www.uap.ualberta.ca/UAP.asp?LID=41&bookID=664
>
> Where philosophy stops, poetry is impelled to begin. He was
> a man, far away from home, biting his nails at destiny.
>
> Susan Howe
>
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