while noticing trends in older poetry that has started to correct in my writing, there is the thought to rewrite all of it to reflect the newer way and developed style of writing. I don't think this is a smart habit to get into as you will never be done revising what has been written unless you rut your style. I'm not even sure I have a style beyond avoidance of certain things.
I've thrown away a lot of work as it was no longer a fit and I couldn't justify keeping it around. It wasn't genius and it wasn't blowing anyone's mind, not even then unless the listener was still a teenager, then everything dark and brooding is good. Maybe I'm only talking about my friends. Friends are terrible judges of art.
Friends don't want to hurt your feelings, which is a problem as they should be the ones who know how to hurt your feelings in the most constructive way.
Americans cannot have a discussion on a topic where they disagree as a disagreement is seen as an assault.
Cell phones may cause brain cancer and you cannot prove a negative.
there are a lot of people who probably wouldn't miss their brain if it were gone - if the brain stem were gone - that would be different. but only slightly.
I don't mean to imply that people are stupid as much as people don't use the squishy tool for anything other than twitter.
I don't twitter as I am not a twit.
using twitter may not make you a twit.
I don't know.
As my wife gets her iPhone I am considering bashing my own in order to not have one at all. As it is it is 'lost' currently and I am happy.
I love the phrasing - as it is it is.
On plane headed to Phoenix
Draw no maps on my body
From the air there are no
state lines or divisions
This is how it is
how I am
My self has no divisions
No way of existing
Sand leads into water
water into rivers
rivers into dirt
& the clouds are always
- Hoc Scripsi
This was written while I was on a plane heading into Phoenix. It was a layover so no-one there had a chance to ask for my papers. The layover lasted the length of time it took to get from one terminal to the other at a dead run. It may have been the last time I ran.