2.21.24
Exploding the Tangerine
Yesterday I worked on two poems.
I am thinking through balance issues — Lowell, who treads against angst heavy levy —- Emily, who uses flashlight and shine?
Emily always finds a way, she does not back down.
I am having discussions with Terry about balancing things I do — hinge at peeks, swing low sweet chariot, touch the ugly, and —
Try not to exclude the middle.
Em’s started with middle — easy ins, then opens up like a flower. And —- her beautiful top offs at end, sudden and — mysterious, kind of.
Sometimes consider Ems and Maya two most important women poets. Cause they touch middle with everybody. And the answer is Yes, always Yes.
I come from Dr. No-Know. Purple Haze and Fiddlers Green.
I graze middle, here, then there, but moreover consider myself a mud bunny, fighting back the mads, with Syvs and even Lowry —- I am a depressing Sod, darkling veined with masses of marble garble. Always admit the worst you can do.
Lately turning towards middle at ends. Really worried it goes too far… on The Big Easy —