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 matt margo at firstname.lastname@example.org for consideration...
Sunday, December 2, 2012
haibun || Sheila E. Murphy
Composition, comma, indefinite art(icle). To do more would effect recombinant futures.
Meanwhile, the remaining sunlight to move through as ideas. Lumber fields look fresh
with leaves upon them. Breezeless. If small music furnishes, a place to sit and hear and
not conjecture anymore. Tea ceremony and the act of indiscovery. To match what is.
On phone, half present, she would say, "just here." My own despair. My sadlight.
Enormously expected versus paranormal hope. Thus we disguise our being from the
cart of several perceived things. A momentum, as though something. One sure
flower makes its way up through the pavement. Metrics may not fly. A symbol makes
headway precisely in a heart. To say the word is to decide the real. And not posture