Friday, August 10, 2012


Though its exact trajectory remains 
Difficult to pin down, we do know 

Before the poem could enter spirited, full 
Blown onto the paper, it had to leave 

A curious black and white flowering 
Pattern at its exit point. 


  1. This looks back as from a charmless, joyless, soul-less and wonderfully immaculate (i.e. inhuman) future to a prior primitive epoch when the making of poems involved (heavens forbid!) the actual touch of the hand to physical substances -- paper, ink. How very inconvenient all that must have been. Before we "advanced"... that is, moved ahead to... erm. I forget what.

  2. Beautiful! So much energy in that word "curious." Poems not hammered together like boilers but a network of tracks made while on some instinctual quest. Keep your nose to the ground, amigo!

  3. I like that idea of leaving 'tracks'. Didn't Stevens call the poem the pheasant disappearing in the bush?

    I say, Let readers find their own way inside.

  4. nothing sings/zings more than
    that now ancient clickity-clackity DING!
    that has moved across white pages
    then over-the-edge

    of the piece of paper and then
    into Big Mind-Imagination.

    I sure miss my Underwood #5
    & the 5 extra spaces given af
    ter that bell sounded.

    two pieces issued via my "touching-playing" the
    typewriter's keys
    that y'all jus might get a 'giggle' from:


    nice piece ... again and again
    you produce solid/original "stuff"

    - a 'breath of fresh air'

  5. As Tom points out, I think most of us—at least most of the people I’ve met through the Internet via this blog—like to “look back to a prior primitive epoch when the making of poems involved the actual touch of the hand to physical substances” i.e., Ed’s typewriter and which leave tracks we can actually pursue; on the other hand, there is no going back, is there? Once again, a pleasure reading such generous comments from friends I did not have back in those fondly remembered typewriter days.


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