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“Towards the door we never opened / Into the rose-garden”: the times we are talking about and the poems too

November 6, 2011

I don’t want to end up one of those people who just talks about themselves on their blog so I’ll get that out of the way first: PANK 6 is on the way and I have 2 poems in it about 2 very important things that happened last year. I’m in some awesome company. Also, Specter is publishing some Derrida erasures I made, as is Tadd Adcox‘s super secret awesome secret journal project. And NAP is going to put out a collaboration of poems that I was a part of made of songs. I read some of these the other night and that went down really which made me happy.

Alright, so let’s talk about something else. New places, huh? There is something to be said for them. My new place is Oxford. England, not Mississippi. It is old. There is tradition everywhere. There are different kinds of poets.

I watch a lot of movies here. Today I watched Charlie Chaplin’s ‘The Circus’ and ‘Modern Times’. Apparently, the reason we find these films funny is because man is imitating machine. (So Bergson suggests). I don’t know how much this still counts because the machine is so much closer to the human these days. I think of how machines connect me to people in ways that I could not deal without. You could say this dependence is funny, I guess, but people are important.

I’ve also been using machines again in poems. Google Translate to be precise. That shit is addictive. There’s this amazing piece forthcoming in the next >kill author that uses Google voicemail in an awesome way.

I’m still reading a ton of Modernism. It isn’t great. But I just re-read Burnt Norton from Eliot’s Four Quartets and his ideas of time are mindblowing. Did I already talk about universal time is a pretty recent development? It seems appropriate given the clocks have gone back both sides of the Atlantic now. Some of my professors enjoy examining how time works in Modernist texts, and how there are often two types of time. Public time imposed by clocks, and private time. They work at different rates. And yes, this is true. Clock time is raging. Can you believe it’s already November? We already scared everyone and put up fireworks and started Christmas songs. Private time though, man that is weird. I am at different speeds the whole time. Eliot talks about time constantly collapsing into itself.

I have not yet decided where the rose garden is. Let me know if you do.

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