So many poets...
...and so little time to read them all. Spared the household chores because of an injured knee (don't ask!), I settled down to read some poetry. I finished Robert Sheppard's 'Warrant Error' and re-read some of Ian Seed's 'Anonymous Intruder', both excellent books which will soon be reviewed on Litter. I then read some poems by Elaine Randall, which I was bowled over by and must read more of. I then picked up one of my batch of Oystercatcher Press pamphlets - by one Rufo Quintavalle, who I've never heard of. A non-English sounding name, but what seemed to me to be an English-like droll humour. The poems were profound. And they were funny - not belly-laugh funny, but made me smile. The pamphlet's title was a reference to a famous Englishman - Auden - 'Make Nothing Happen'.
I don't care if there are 100,000 English-language poets, or a million, or whatever the latest figure Ron Silliman has come up with. If they're all writing as well as the poets I read this afternoon, then that's fine by me. Just give me time to read them all.
Even if they're writing less well, hopefully they're kept so busy by poetry they don't have time to join Brown et al's big network of anti-terror "watch-yr-neighbors" types ... let there be a million of em ...
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