Poet Reading to a Seated Muse

 by unknown artist

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Johnny Sartre

Pulp Writer

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Shooters Supply

WI

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from The Last Avant-Garde: The Making of the New York School of Poets

It is no secret that our own times are inimical to the imagination. Technology has put art to the rout. The concept of fame has been degraded, replaced by the notion of celebrity, and poetry is recognized as an expedient and sometimes eloquent way to hasten the aims of social justice on the one hand and of marketing strategies on the other. Poetry consists of irreproachable sentiment rendered in bite-sized pieces, doggerel for an inaugural. Or it is a rhymed injunction to the jury, or a rock singer’s wail. Or perhaps it is something in the air of a hip, dark underground cafe that can help sell blue jeans. How precious at such a time is true poetry, which resists the blandishments of celebrity culture, is impatient with pretense and piety, and remembers that the gratuitousness of a work of art is its grace. If reality is indistinguishable from the consumerism and mass thinking that the mass media foster, there is an urgent need for a poetry that can press back against the pressures of reality…

— David Lehman

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No Aid

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The Ideas of My Fingers

This blog is terrific. There is usually all the ideal details at the ideas of my fingers. Many thanks and keep up the great work!

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The Times We Had Together Were Groovy To A Fault

Lying on the executive flooring
That expresses so much
In the President’s office
Regarding our claim
Perception contact sensation
Desire no more than
A molecular explanation
Silent noise biting and
Sustained a spent eternity
The knowledge becoming
A terrible immanence
A spirit made visible by
Universal gravitation
Qetesh Jezebel
Queen Tomyris
Potiphar’s Wife
Tread softly lover
On the fabric of the cosmos
Spin in respect to space
Entangle me in the quick
Toss of your ponytail
Spooky action at a distance
Given and complicate
But of course that which
Bends the human experience
Neither here nor there
But in between

Let’s talk outside

We decide to make a bolt
A paint and clay splattered
Component nodule object
It turns out
We are not in the rain
But inside the rain

Let’s head that way

Launching point of the realm
The grottos and groves
High resolution disorientation
Crawling out of a photograph
Nude sunset through a stairway
Umbilical jacket moonlight
Fearless genitalia elevated
To the apex by the hazard class
Sum of our longings
The repose
Of a quick conspiratorial
Glance at historically new forms
Of universal legitimization
The sharp end of fucked up
The far side of odd
Backflow certification and
Acceptable manipulation
Utility locating services
You know who you are
It’s because your doctor cares
This happy reunion up against the sink
A ritual of offering and evocation
Generating data about outcomes
We are going to link up
In reparative plasticity
Correct me if I’m wrong

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What Republicans Do

Romney’s competitors have been running around New Hampshire and South Carolina trashing Romney for doing what Republicans do: throwing people out of work and making money.

— Maureen Dowd

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Allegory of the Four Elements

 

FINSON, Louis

(b. ca. 1580, Brugge, d. 1617, Amsterdam)

 1611

Oil on canvas, 179 x 170 cm
Private collection

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The Beheading of St. John the Baptist

 

FABRITIUS, Carel

(b. 1622, Middenbeemster, d. 1654, Delft)

c. 1640

Oil on canvas, 149 x 121 cm
Rijksmuseum, Amsterdam

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