Thursday, August 23, 2007


My three longest books -- ENGLISH (504 pages), Silences (402 pages) and now The Light (366 pages) -- allow me to do something because of their scale:

write poetry books manifesting the trash can. Not "trash". The "trash can." More specifically, a full trash can.

By which I mean, these three long collections are not neat or neatly-ordered. But though there could be the individual shitty poem here or there (as judged by the reader whose prerogative it is to so assess, albeit on both thin and thick collections), the all of it is not a mess. Because their "arc" is a really strongly-built trash can. If I did my job right, that trash bucket won't leak, collapse or fray.

So. I invite you to rummage through my trash. After all, in such repositories do I also dispose of diamonds.

And yes. I am one of those: Moi loves to talk trash!

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