I wrote
an oak is a malignant acorn
but the new hornbeam leaves were opening
like tiny fans.
——-
I really will try and manage something rather longer soon. Harry
I wrote
an oak is a malignant acorn
but the new hornbeam leaves were opening
like tiny fans.
——-
I really will try and manage something rather longer soon. Harry
Robert Creeley died. I’m not familiar with his work.
There are lots of poets whose work I don’t know as well as I should, of course. But I’m always surprised by how little poetry crosses the Atlantic. You’d think it would be a quite naturally international activity.
No, really, that’s what the exhibition was called.
I suspect a few Caravaggio-related poems will turn up during napowrimo, because I can’t afford to waste material. It had me thinking, though, what would the poetry version of chiaroscuro be? The effect of chiaroscuro in a painting – to highlight a few points and draw the eye to them – is of course something that language does very naturally. But would there be a way of writing that be analogous to the contrasting areas of light and dark? And what would the effect be?