Monday, April 16, 2007


First, a poet writes a nearly thousand page manuscript. A single poem, even, rather than a series of poems.

A publisher publishes what becomes a thousand page, single-poem book. It gets split into two volumes only because the page count exceeds the printer's constraints, but it really is a single book.

The poet has always wondered who would read this poem. The publisher wondered the same thing as soon as she decided to publish it, knowing full well that a thousand-page single-poem book requires a reader committed to poetry, not to a particular poet.

Words really are coming difficult to me this morning to discuss this -- I'm trying, fumbling, to share my admiration of Allen Bramhall's Days Poem. I'm trying to say, among many other things, I truly respect this project's process.

And then the icing du jour is that, as far as I know, the OFFICIAL FIRST CUSTOMER of Days Poem is John Yau. (That was unexpected but, wooooo, what an email to wake up to this morn!) Perhaps the second is Ohio State's library ...

The matter at hand is poetry, so why not contribute, too, to bucking its "odds" (as imposed by a sleeping culture) by availing yourself of A SPECIAL OFFER (see prior post). And did I say the self-evident "it's a great read" factor? Days Poem is not just a book publication of a poem. It's a gift in how one might live. That is, Live!

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