beginning and end

The beginning and the end of a poem provide its essential structure. Not that what happens in between doesn’t matter, it does, but with that essential outer support it’s likely to stand.

bird poop

The poet who organized the reading got to the outdoor venue early and began wiping down seats soiled by catbirds.

absolute poems

He waited 30 years for that run of poems that were absolute and couldn’t be ignored. All that time he felt them inside himself but they never came forth.

self-inflicted extinction

Certain words, having an excess of syllables, or being ill-melodious or seeming contrary to their definitions, drive their own extinction within the language. [‘cachinnate’ for example]

new word to me

"Epeolatry," or the worship of words, embodies a profound reverence for language and its intricacies. This concept highlights the beauty, power, and significance of words in human expression and communication. Those who practice epeolatry often appreciate the nuances of language, celebrating its ability to inspire, connect, and transform. This admiration can manifest in various forms, such as collecting poetry, studying linguistics, or engaging in deep discussions about literary works. Ultimately, epeolatry emphasizes the importance of words not just as tools for communication, but as objects of devotion that shape our understanding of the world.

[from the Word Trivia site.]

over published

Prolific or pathetically eager for the least attention.

no hence

This poem is dear to you and yet you know it won’t carry over to others, to hence.

thin spines

I was so slow to learn that if I wanted to read a new novella all I had to do is walk through the fiction section at the local library looking for thin spines.

substitution of terms

“We cannot know of the gods whether they exist or do not exist, or of what sort they are. Much prevents: the obscurity of the subject and the brevity of human life.”

Protagoras, “On Gods,” in Diels-Krantz, Die Vorsokratiker (Berlin, 1951)
[Die Fragmente der Vorsokratiker (Berlin, 1903, 6th ed., rev. by Walther Kranz (Berlin: Weidmann, 1952; the editions after the 6th are mainly reprints with little or no change.)]

We cannot know of poems, what they mean or do not mean, or of what sort they are. Much prevents: the obscurity of the subject and the brevity of human life.

they don't know

If you were waiting for an audience, remember in this arena most people don’t know what poetry is.

broken and off

Nothing about the fragment gave evidence of its ever having been part of a worthwhile whole.

makes room for misfits

Poetry welcomes all misfit texts.

close or unfold

A dialectic of poetics: those who seek the perfect close and those who allow the poem to unfold and unfold…

get out there

Poet, get out of your head and go engage the world.

dead dead

You kept coaxing and poking the poem to get up…until you realized it wasn’t playing dead.