thinking again

that some of the rigorous among you may be annoyed.

If we go ahead and say that “everything is prosody,” how then will we describe the particulars of poetic technique?

I should know better.

4 thoughts on “thinking again

  1. “It is all a rhythm, / from the shutting / door, to the window / opening, // the seasons, the sun's / light, the moon, / the oceans, the / growing of things, // the mind… // The rhythm which projects / from itself continuity / bending all to its force…” (Creeley).

    Dig it!

  2. Ben: re: “Dig it” — I'm teaching my students about the sixties, about which they know nothing, so I had to start with the fifties to give them some context. So yesterday I drew a beatnik on the board with goatee and turtleneck! I showed them a Jackson Pollock video and next week will show them Kerouac. Go, cat, go! Or as one of the Jets girlfriends says in West Side Story, “oodly-oo.”

    How much more fucking prosodic can you get?


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