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this poem departs (introduction to poems that don’t exist #3)

This poem departs from the idea which is not my own that all that we think of as objective knowledge is subjective knowledge. I suppose I can call it a poem, I am introducing poems that don’t exist. It doesn’t exist, this poem. When we think of the

as Mitski says, “I wrote what I needed to hear”

introduction to a poem that doesn’t exist

This is a poem called ‘a nice friendly chat,’ or: ‘the familiar bathos at the unfamiliar time, at bath time.’ Or: ‘as I look out upon the devastation we have caused, I can’t help thinking, I should write about this.’ or, have you noticed when ... poets begin to read

introduction to a poem

This is an introduction to a poem called ‘All it Takes’ or ‘Clay Birds.’ Although I hesitate to call it a poem. But that’s my problem. Not yours. And I’ll be talking about that in another introduction. I was listening to the editor of The Economist magazine. When

a musical interlude–takes me back to chapter two you know who

sketches of Kawaeranga

don’t trust bird stories they have short lives are pleased to please themselves tell of quick movement quick and alive and don’t trust the pain of trees they bear up the sky look the sky is blue … the big kauri on the ridge supports half the sky calls

the déjà vu of an extensive and multifarious declaration of perplexity, Juan Gabriel Vásquez, The Shape of the Ruins, the past that is ruined, in its jealousy, by the present’s 2 minutes hate

… the worst vices of our digital societies: intellectual irresponsibility, proud mediocrity, implausible denigration with impunity, but most of all verbal terrorism, the schoolyard bullying the participants got involved in with incomprehensible enthusiasm, the cowardice of all aggressors who used pseudonyms to vilify but would never repeat their insults out loud.