It feels very dangerous.
Maybe like I’m putting it on the line and could lose it at any moment, but more like I never knew how it would feel to put it all out there, which has become a frightening reality.
If critics read my blog, they will tear it apart. Like, on April 9th of 2019 you said that poetry is defined by x, y and z, but now you’re saying that t, w and v are what define poetry. Who are you and how can you possibly be significant?
Or if my writing here isn’t taken seriously because I feign to use the queen’s oxford co22a,
But who cares.
Question marks be damned. I have thought about poetry and writing and language so much but never said much of it to anyone because only a handful of my friends ever looked at poetry and language and writing like I do.
Again, Marjorie Perloff is pretty much totally beyond me. Johana Drucker, I heard her speak at &Now at Notre Dame, and I’m certain she would get bored with me before the first cocktail had dampened its napkin, though I love how she writes. But these women are in a league of their own.
Here, I’ve found a place to dialogue this art outside the city gates. I don’t want to sound intellectual or worse, arrogant. I want to talk about things that have challenged and opened up my creativity, things I care about. Actually, the intellectual side has bogged me down and kept me from expressing my thoughts about the subject. So, now, to relax and write what comes to mind.
It’s scary to write about all of this. It could look as if I think I’m an authority, which I’m not really. Or else I’ve been lying to myself this whole time and only now will find out my life is a sham. It’s scary to think I could get hurt by doing something I love.
Pain will change our minds. What we change into is what defines us.
I wrote that and didn’t delete it because I thought, That’s what Batman would say.
At whatever month of regular posting to this blog, I continue on. I’m not sure where this is going, really. There are possibilities, like posting daily, calling for submissions to a magazine or a host of other things that might possibly could happen.
But who knows? When what I love and focus so much attention on is the subject, why not try on danger rather than assured and safe ambiguity?