I thought if I washed out my mouth with lots Of soap and water, my speech Would henceforth spume forth A fountainhead
Of pure verse shining And smelling like a million bucks— But all that came out of it reeked Of a foul, wishy-washy tongue that was all
Fucked up and too utterly bankrupt To strive towards any semblance of upkeep.
Moderator’s comment: Huuk certainly knows his way around the poetic blogosphere—
who would have thought he’d latch on to a catchy phrase from Conrad DiDiodato’s comment on a post over at
ursprache and work it into a telling commentary on the modern poet’s coming to terms with his/her language predicament—whatever that may be.
In the event
the ursprache link is broken, here’s Conrad’s comment on a Seferis quote (“Unimaginable
how much patience is needed to see the simplest things. How much
patience I need to write a single verse.”):
phraseology from C.S.Lewis, I'd say you can start by wanting to write good
verse (for which much patience is required) and in the end you may get Poetry;
however, beginning with the "soap and water" of much contemporary
poetry will get you nothing at all. Of that you can be certain