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Some Fragments soon to be made whole

At the thumbshow my lover parades like a peacock.
The minions are swept off their feet.
Ash in the throat.
Clean wind is the cosolation of my future.
My lot behind twelve million clomping hooves.
It behooves you to bereave with bandits.
Glaciers recommended their services but brisk tails called me to distance.
The rigid arm pushes.
My lover a QB in a no-hurry huddle.

Poor Green Bay. 4th and 1 and they punted. Bad call.

First class for Irish lit yesterday. Most of the students are marketing majors. At least half of the students said they have never finished reading a whole book. None of them had heard of critical reading. I explained writing in margins or on a piece of paper. Engaging in conversation with the text etc.

Existentialism in a few hours. Gonna start off with American Beauty to get things rolling. The students responded well to that movie last semester. They had a hard time with The Seventh Seal (b&w and subtitles).

Contamination of the "mainstream" with the "avant guarde." Purity makes me shiver. Not everything is misappropriation. Most of the mongrols I've met are well aware of the theory informing avant guarde poetics.

Down and dirty. Ready for a shower.

Not sure what's in the mix today.

It seems "indie" music informs a lot of the "younger" poets. Noticed a trend at Amherst. People with an MFA in poetry who also play in an indie band.

I am heavily influenced by indie music (indie is a large category. Not sure what defines it. Magnet magazine helps).

Neutral Milk astounds me. As does Built to Spill and sometimes Modest Mouse.

Like Death Cab for Cutie.

Love Iron and Wine!!!!



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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.

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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…