Damn right.  Who cares?  Some guy has been using lines from my poems as his signature for twenty years.  I vaguely remember him but what a fine fellow.  If only the rest of the poesy absconders and internet publishers had such exquisite and discriminating taste.  When you don't get anything for your poesy you have a wonderful freedom.  I once every ten years think how dreary it must be to have to turn out books for this or that job, or to promote oneself because one wants... what?  Share in the fun?  That's ok.  But...It's all mere oblivion so why not have fun?

However, I am pursuing a film deal for "The Limerick Homer."  Don't mess with that Mr. Internet.

Poetry becomes dreary when the many poetry bonzes make it so.  What's the ratio of pieces of writing about poetry on the internet to a damn fine internet poem?  10,000 to 1?   



----- Original Message ----
From: Kenneth Wolman <[log in to unmask]>
To: [log in to unmask]
Sent: Thursday, December 13, 2007 5:36:18 PM
Subject: Re: copyright on the Net


andrew burke wrote:
> Nothing new here, but Wendy Cope attacking the non-copyright use of
> poems on the Net:
> http://books.guardian.co.uk/comment/story/0,,2223830,00.html
>   

I'm sorry Ms. Cope is insulted to find her work reprinted all over the 
internet.  The other night I actually Googled myself (it was like
 having 
my stones in a bench vise) and discovered that some of my things are on
 
specialized websites, I can't even remember the names or the subjects.

Sorry, Ms Cope, but I'm actually flattered when I come across my work
 on 
a website where the person who runs it didn't ask my permission.  What 
should I sue for?  A penny a line?  Pomes pennyeach?  Except for one 
prize almost 13 years ago I've long since disabused myself of the idea 
of making money from anything I have ever written or shall write.  
Unless, that is, I develop the imagination to write intellectual 
pornography.

What makes any poet think that his or her work is that important?  Is 
Ms. Cope really Rod McKuen or just someone with a monstrous ego? A few 
years ago some guy named Neal Bowers found that some jerk was grabbing 
fistfuls of his poetry, redoing the line breaks, and publishing them as
 
his own work in respected journals. What, first, does this say about
 the 
editors, the same ones who demand that you read their publication
 before 
submitting?  Don't they read other journals before accepting?

If nothing else, the thief knew where Bowers had been so he avoided 
going back to the same well.

Bowers established the identity of the goniff, a man named David Jones,
 
aka Sumner.  Jones also stole from other poets.  If I recall this 
correctly (and I'm off on any facts, I'm sure to be set straight)
 Bowers 
sued for damages.  He won a judgment but his award was zero.  Why?  
Because according to the judge, poetry has no inherent financial value.

Well, that is an interesting theory.  What establishes the financial 
value of any writing?  It's certainly not quality, otherwise Irving 
Wallace would have won the Pulitzer.

Ken

-- 
------------------
Kenneth Wolman
www.kenwolman.net        kenwolman.wordpress.com

        To My Children

        One last thing I will do for you:
        I will grow up.--Mairead Byrne






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