I've been reading some letters and poems exchanged between Barbara Guest and Stephen Ratcliffe. It's a delightful book, just out from Chax books, and it's inspiring me to write a new kind of poem. By mistake they first sent me the Selected poems of Rachel Blau DuPlessis. Also a wonderful poet, but a kind of writing I don't relate to personally in the same way. They generously allowed me to keep that book too.
I think the way Ratcliffe writes allows certain things to get into the poem that I am not allowing into my poems. I won't imitate his style or procedure, those being unique to him; even less his tone of voice.
I don't like those little "lyrical moments" but often I have wondered
why bacon sizzles in the pan. What is vibrating, exactly? I understand
the vibrating drum head, how it moves the air, but not
the bacon, yet it seems dumb to ask.
I wonder
why I don't like most things I read. I wait for packages to arrive,
things I've ordered myself. Many are disappointments,
nobody's fault.
My observational skills aren't great,
I've noticed. I don't have little epiphany puffs
just sometimes a funny phrase will pop into my head.
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