OBITER DICTA

If anyone moving forward asks what I look for in the work of my peers and particularly myself, that of the past and what still is to come, I leave no agreeable recipe; no burdensome, by-the-book formula. Quite the opposite, I follow Wittgenstein’s wily (if not numinous) approach to the dissemination of Philosophical thought, providing those of you there in the future with the following aphorism, which will suffice for my obiter dicta:

“A sound poem should have the impact of a consonant (turned-up, perhaps, at times, even clangorous) punch to the ear.” EH

 
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Last Supper

Raised from the smutty toaster of death … . At Five A.M., already drinking stale beer With Lucifer’s sunny switchblade at your throat While the neighbor with the bad cough Jumps rope at the humming edge of the world … . I should have... Continue →