texts that change the conscious parameters of literature, both for readers and writers. from a different angle than these, r.p. blackmur adds: 'poetry: [is] ...language so twisted and posed in a form that...it adds to the stock of available reality.' now that blogger has included the ability to reproduce fonts more accurately, alpha-numeric visual-poetry will be welcomed for consideration. formerly edited by peter ganick. send texts to Volodymyr Bilyk at firstname.lastname@example.org for consideration...
Sunday, November 18, 2012
poem || Peter Sherburn-Zimmer
New Poetry What hurried out of the old woes Anatolia Into, it's only a new broadcast With repetition of landscape And broken versions of city names? The radio is off ... The times and all the silence: I cannot recite the sound of my time. The fool can mix news items-- I am not tired and I am not weary. I am not sufficiently angry. If it makes a difference to the calendar And Kennedy's death coming ... Said in my memory... Louder than... Say this: the Dr. Says-- The scalpel for mind, Me, my hip, the base of my skull... Insert: we could hardly make this up, and On the way to the proxy The vote was lost, the sound was lost. The loss was what we found Waiting for the old lines to limp by.