Wednesday, December 14, 2005

Poetics 101

So, I've been thinking:

"I can see how quickly I will forget to post anything of interest on this site."
"Why is that?" you might ask.
"Well, see, I'm supposed to be writing all the time, so the opportunity to do so online where all my friends and family can be amazed by my genius seems somehow redundant."
"Hm. Bit stuck up, aren't you?"
"A bit, yes, I think so."

And then I started thinking:

"Well, maybe people use their blogs as a sort of therapy - you know, like how all young writers think writing poetry is the best way to unload their burdened souls."
"Yeah - I hate that."
"Me too, down to my deep, deep black hole of a soul."
"Oh, stop. You're so catty."
"Yeah, but that's why we're such good friends, no? Anyway, I don't have anything to be particularly anxsty about. I mean, I didn't even break out into shingles ONCE this semester."
"Hmmmm . . . clearly, you're not a real arteest or tortured writer, willing to give up food, even shelter, for the sake of your art."
"Yeah, um, about that . . ."
"Mmmm?"
"See, I don't think all artists - literary or otherwise - have to be miserable drunks, manic depressives, plain old depressed, or otherwise unstable. Take, for instance, e.e. cummings -"
"Oh not THIS example again,"
"YES, this example again. I'll just remind you that he had a perfectly respectable marriage, and grew up in a stable, happy, middle-class family. And yet . . ."
"Yes, yes: 'and yet, he's one of the most quoted poets in history, and is studied in classrooms to this day.'"
"Hm. And I'M the catty one."
"meow."

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