Your initial reaction did seem out of character. Apology accepted.

Poetry online. Partly it's the simple mechanics of old eyes 
confronting a bright screen. But I think there's something more to 
it, if not a whole lot. I should start by saying that I have nothing 
in theory against publishing on line, god knows I've done a lot of 
it. But for me the act of reading is an intimate, very private 
experience, even when I read to an audience. The computer feels 
distancing to me. The need to scroll down is probably part of it--a 
lot of reading is the ability of the eye to reread at will and at 
random, and I experience it as part of the process of learning how to 
read the poem: I tend not to be very interested in any poem that I 
don't need to learn how to read (only the difficult stimulates 
growth, according to Lezama Lima, and I'm with him). Which is a big 
piece of why I go to readings and why I give them--curiosity about 
how the poet (myself included) on a given occasion understands the 
movement of the poem, phoneme by phoneme and breath by breath (I 
never read a poem exactly the same way twice--it's something like 
performing a piece of music). A poem, it seems to me, has a very 
complex timeline for the reader, a process unfolding peculiarly in 
time. The computer seems to enforce linearity. I suppose that I also 
miss the feel of the paper--keyboard or mouse are very different 
tactile experiences.

On political poetry: it's probably a good idea to remember how 
different the discussion would be outside the anglophone world, even 
in a country as close as France, where Mallarme's art for art's sake 
position was revolutionary, and exceptional, post Hugo and Baudelaire 
and pre-surrealism. In Latin America it's been expected that the poet 
will be a political actor since at least the early 19th century, in 
verse and in public presence. In even the self-avowedly least 
political Cuban poets, for instance, like Baquero or Kozer, one 
doesn't have to read very far before bumping into something that 
bears a political scent. Kozer, who's adamant about being apolitical 
in his poetry, although he's acknowledged to me that there are 
moments, has said that the decision not to be political is a 
political statement, which in his context it certainly is.

I've been moving boxes all day, and I'm beyond exhausted. Time for 
someone else to pick this up.

Mark



At 11:47 AM 9/13/2006, you wrote:
>Mark,
>
>Back from work now and have a little more time to answer.
>
>You've raised a lot of interesting issues: the role of the concrete, 
>the abstract and so on. The idea of the cost to a poet seems to get 
>more and more complex the more I think about it, and I realise 
>you're not just talking about calories or kilowatts.
>
>I'm sorry that I was unfair to you. I did have some notion that your 
>last number of posts in reply to Alison were all negative, and was a 
>little concerned that there might be something behind this. I meant 
>well, however deluded I my attempts. As you point out, I didn't go 
>back and analyse or do anything that would have clarified things 
>even to myself. I'm glad I was barking up the wrong tree. I'm not 
>glad I sounded off incorrectly and at your expense. I apologise.
>
>I'm interested in your saying that you are uncomfortable reading 
>poems online. If you got a chance I'd be interested in hearing more about this.
>
>best
>
>Randolph