And while my kettle boils for coffee the poet I forgot was Sidney Graham.
I read the texts I have of his a couple of nights ago. To me his quality
of language is absolutely nil although Fred Beake says that he achieves
`texture' in Malcom Mooney's Land. And his content is, to me, so totally
uninteresting. I have read most of his books out of the library in the
past. The Nightfishing etc. To me he is a non-poet. Although I
sympathise with his miserable life in Cornwall. If Eliot hadnt chosen
him I dont think he would have been a poet at all.
Roy Fisher is a different kettle of fish. I recall that I have his
Fulcrum Collected from thirty years ago. It is the content not the
production I quibble with here. Although I must reread him. I think
I have The Furnace upstairs.
But let Robin produce my previous thoughts which should sum things up.
What I am talking about is the DAntean experience.
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