Hi. Oh yeah, there's blogging. I've been reading blogs since I last posted, and they're often like, "Whoops, forgot to post, busy busy" and even then it didn't occur to me that I too ought to post a post. Here's one, finally, about where I live and whether or not I should write poems about it.
So, of course my neighborhood is ramshackle and neglected, and when I moved in it was the first I saw of this type of America. It didn't seriously occur to me for a long time, like a year, that it was a thing to write about (because I was sort of busy habituating, which is an intentional thing to do around here), and then when it did I wasn't sure that I should write about it. I should, on one hand, because I'm pretty sure that there aren't many middle class whitey's in the world who have firsthand experience of what America's hard neighborhoods are like, even a little, and they ought to. On the other hand -- there are lots of other hands. One is that even though it's where I live, I'm not all that aware of what's going on. And more importantly, it's not what I've been wanting to write about. I'm more interested in pre-apocalypse stuff.
But what the heck, I've begun working a new how lives the other half, in hope that I will get written into The Wire. Hey David Simon, there's a new problem in the Eastern District, and he's writing poetry.
this house
this street
this trash
this noise
those siren
those fire
those blow
those camera
that wind
that scatter
that vial
that mange
these cuff
these wave
these swear
these flicker
2 comments:
Comments?
Hi from Madison where there are some areas as where you are but probably a lot less. What we looking at you don't really say, you say you'll say, and then don't. Please do write about what you see in you views.
All best,
Mary Jo
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