a crawlspace, where the scraps of lines and letters encountered throughout the day are stored as bookmarks for reference and later use

11.6.08

"Modern Life" in poetry

Interesting verse (examples from Joan Houlihan's review of Matthea Harvey's new book of poems Modern Life):

I put on my coat of pastilles and glass and hit the road
with a Phillips screwdriver. Dog Pants. The way out is in,
cried a newly promoted magpie. Look inside me, Trojan
the Horse said. Someone succumbed to a shape of stars.
Someone folded in like an Robo-accordian. Someone
smelled a herd of centipedes. Someone wondered why
poetry so publicly acclaimed could be so barren of life.


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