I never thought my writing was quite disjunctive enough to exist within Peter Ganick's
taste range. In this instance my flyting and sonneteering invoke a traditional defense of
a lady's honour:
SNAP THAT “MEATY MASTERPIECE”
Beat your meat, meaty
to listen to new songs.
Keep your hands . . .
Fill the bowl.
A fork punches holes in the meat
you’ve expressed into a masterpiece.
Desire mayo, mustard, lettuce, tomato?
There’s the butcher shop.
Beat your meat, meaty master.
“Girls are honey”.
They’re going to want to beat you,
shred your meat.
Thick, squarish, small, pale-green,
carrying it around at 11 led to . . .
Barry Alpert
On Sun, 5 Apr 2009 16:12:20 -0400, Frederick Pollack <[log in to unmask]> wrote:
>----- Original Message -----
>From: "Barry Alpert" <[log in to unmask]>
>To: <[log in to unmask]>
>Sent: Sunday, April 05, 2009 2:02 PM
>Subject: Re: blog invitation
>
>
>I read pganickz livejournal for the formal innovation of the varied texts he
>publishes, both
>to keep up with activity at an extremely advanced level of experimentation
>with language
>and in hopes of extrapolating from certain methodologies I might detect in
>the work of
>practitioners.
>
>Barry Alpert
>
>
>and I'm sure it does your poetry a world of good.
>
>
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