Just decided to use Lisa Jarnot's Ring of Fire for my two sections of intro to lit. Should be interesting in combo with The New American Poetry Revised ( I will recontextualize and historize the selections) and Eileen Myles Cool for You.
My used mac system is almost complete. The studio crt display is supposed to arrive today. My eyes will be relieved.
I've been thinking about the term maximum. Dean Young talks about being maximalist. he says he includes everything (waste and all) rather than paring down (like Creeley etc.)
I just went through my books again to try and get some $ to watch Fahrenheit 911 tonight.
I realized I don't really like Dean Young's poetry anymore. My recent feast of Oppen, Paz, Jospeh Donahue, Rexroth, and Philip Whalen makes Dean Young's poems feel like a plate of rubber chick peas.
So many jokes.
It's smooth skating without cracks in the ice. Or if there is a crack the nice voice guides you through. The language doesn't feel aware of itself. It's like a joke with the same punchline (laugh now because this is so strange. Don't you think strange is funny. Don't you admire my voice guiding you through these strange worlds. Here's a clown. There's a strange man with an upside down hat. HA HA)
Dean Young reminds me of james tate who reminds me of Charles Simic of a lot of younger poets (esp ones who attended the Amherst program).
I see now why some of the older generation of open form/avant garde poets have critiqued the younger generation for sloppy mismash.
Although, I do like sloppy mishmash via google.
Maybe sloppy mishmash is the wrong term. Smooth skating might be better.
No, that's not right either. The use of surreal has its appeal via young alienation. But surreal by itself usually doesn't move me.
So, time to keep moving. I've a stack of books to sell to the used bookstore:
1) three galway kinnell books (I am keeping the Book of Nightmares)
2) All robert pinsky
3) all Robert Hass
4) Michael Ryan's God Hunger
5) Yannis Ritsos Selected poems
6) All Tony Hoagland (Sweet Ruin, Donkey Gospel, already sold the new one)
7) Actual Air by David Berman ( a decent book but I don't need to hold onto it)
8) American Linden by Matthew Zapruder (can't get into it. Feels very similar to a lot of recent books by poets in my age group).
9) Half-Finshed Heaven (Tomas Transtromer trans. by Robert Bly. I am not a fan of Bly, translations or otherwise)
It feels so good to get rid of books. The bookstore won't take The Wantbone (it's all marked up. So I put it in the recycling bin. It feels good to put a book of poetry in the recycling bin.