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Moses and the wine part two.
Or Jesus, the camel, and the death of fatherhood.



If wavering is to stray then the narrow road requires flexible horses
to get through the eye of the needle.

If home is an interior then not home is . . .

What a strange, profound, bewildering wilderness

We invented off-hand wavering to wake up in an orchard of fermented fruit.





Abstractness in poetry an end in itself? Abstract grounded is the "common" Williams wisdom. What makes a good abstract poem (Barbara Guest) versus bad abstract poem (teenage angst poem)?

All my wonder and awe nailed down in a narrative easy going poem is dishonest.
All my awe and wonder exploded into abstract tidbits sometimes feels dishonest.

So, the tidbits of narrative or dramatic situation help me to dig further intellectually and emotionally. Or emotionally intellectually. Emotion and intellect at war since the wee Greeks invented reasoning etc.

Here comes the sun.

Gotta get ready to teach George Moore's "Homesickness."

I am almost always homesick.


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This review really hit it for me. I recently read Maurice Scully's _Livelihood_ and Geofrey Squires _Untitled and Other Poems_ is on deck (I love that baseball term. It is baseball, right?)

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Another Ireland: Part Two
Maurice Scully, The Basic Colours. Durham, UK: Pig Press, 1994.
Geoffrey Squires, Landscapes and Silences. Dublin: New Writers' Press, 1996.
Catherine Walsh, Idir Eatortha and Making Tents. London: Invisible Books, 1996.

By Robert Archambeau

I began the first half of this article (Notre Dame Review #4) by mentioning some of the limits to the legendary hospitality Ireland has shown to its poets. If you arrive in Ireland from any point of departure outside of Eastern Europe, you will indeed find a public far more willing than the one you left behind to grant poets the recognition all but the most ascetic secretly crave. However, this hospitality has never extended to Irish poets w…