I know "On First Looking into Chapman's Homer" is a classic description of the ability of art to create emotional epiphanies in a reader, but I never realized how much Keats sounds like a kid reading his report to the class and going way overboard praising the book because he obviously hasn't read it.
I feel like if our hair is touching
it's sort of like we're doing it already
and I don't really think "saying anything about our feelings"
is more powerful than just how much our hair is touching
Like I already gave you the hair
from my HEAD
You are constantly underestimated in comparison to Eliot and Pound, probably because everyone thinks you departed from nineteenth-century techniques insufficiently, or because you forgot to fling a lot of untranslated Italian and unnecessary canto divisions into your work.
i have written you another poem
is it – don't worry
it's VERY long and EXTREMELY unfinished
oh good it's about what if a woman saw another woman take her coat off
and it's 9000 lines
wow it's so great that i can still write when i'm high and it doesn't affect my work
YOU DEMAND THAT EVERYONE YOU MEET IS EITHER INSTANTLY IMPRESSED WITH OR INTIMIDATED BY YOU AND HAVE DECIDED IF YOU EVER WALK INTO A ROOM WITHOUT A SUFFICIENTLY ADMIRING RECEPTION IT IS BECAUSE THEY HAVE ALREADY REJECTED YOU
Brooks was a remarkable poet in countless ways, but this ability to create a world on the page is perhaps the most singular. If she wrote fiction, we’d say she was brilliant at world-building--but the world she builds is the real one, the part that didn’t used to make it into the pages of literary magazines. Not just Chicago: Bronzeville.
Oh my God, Jenny, you're such a mystery
You like money and making out both, which is wild.
Just straight-up nuts. You're asleep, almost as if
you were tired or something. Maybe tired from your lifestyle
of Doing It. Which is your job, Doing It, for money.
I wonder which one you're dreaming about
Look, I have a lot of other stuff on my mind, too, I just –
some nights I can't sleep and yes, one of the thoughts
that enters my head is: What if God were a swan and you had to fuck him?
And I can't apologize for that,
FAILED TO NURTURE RELATIONSHIPS BORN OUT OF CONVENIENCE ONCE CHANGING CIRCUMSTANCES REQUIRED ACTIVE PARTICIPATION FROM YOU
WATCHED NETFLIX FOR SEVEN HOURS INSTEAD OF SLEEPING BECAUSE YOU HAVE ONCE AGAIN MISTAKEN INERTIA FOR REST