i came across this entry in my notebook from 8/28/05.

all these inspiring people and now the allure of poetry. that’s fucked. i must remain strong. i must maintain my staunch anti poetry stance but there’s always that allen ginsberg romance. these power words that invoke and evoke. make you feel something. make me feel something. poetry. shit ass junk poetry trite banal ridiculous and pompous arrogant poetry laughing at you. makes you start writing in the first place but in turn you turn on it realize it for what it is. a sham. a hoax. a myth. a catalyst. a springboard. inspiration. romance. see how that happened. hatred to romance all in a few lines. that’s the danger of it. that falseness. that deceit. refuse and reject poetry. coopt the images the iconography the messages but deny the medium. poetry.

what i find a little interesting is that i continued and continue to be drawn to the idea of poetry. even though i hate reading it generally. i’m drawn to this magic that i have attributed to it. but i always have had a soft spot in my heart for allen ginsberg, who i love. and right now i’m reading some of the books of poems that michael ondaatje has put out. but part of that is because i’m such a junkie for ondaatje and his prose and poetry aren’t all the different from each other – the main difference being where the line breaks and how the words are arranged on the page.


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