AF: I have more to tell you than March does the maples, Aries! new cars Ah, popcorn. You and Robert

AF: I clubbed a nun in a subway and took the poem from her. No, How to Get Over Someone You Love originated for me on a fall morning last year. I woke from a dream and felt compelled no, mandated to write a poem. It was one of those dreams where someone you ve loved is only eager to take advantage of the amorphous cartoon logic of dreams. I was driving in a car through toll lanes in a blizzard and X kept maintaining this peripheral elusiveness in many failed or frustrated vignettes of reunion and parting. Like John Cassavetes, sort of, with the most important dialogue half heard and off-screen, ten thousand other dumb and wonderful things going on simultaneously. Tell me about your poem in Granta .
DL: I love all this and there is so much to say here. Like I want to ask you: what s your favourite Cassavetes film? But maybe I ll ask that another time. What I want to ask is a question I struggle new cars with is there always an X in a poem? I mean, it doesn t have to be this kind of elusive X. It doesn t have to be a present X. But is there always an X and a Y and then where is the Z? I came to the conclusion almost ten years ago that it was silly to disregard new cars the X and so many poems do. But if a poem always concerns the X, is that bad, too? What other options do we have as poets? (And after you answer this, then I will address my poem question.) (Also, I m eating new cars popcorn to simulate Home School.)
AF: I have more to tell you than March does the maples, Aries! new cars Ah, popcorn. You and Robert Polito are frigging obsessed new cars . I think popcorn is having a comeback even as movie theatres vanish. Or maybe movie theatres are having a comeback. But I can t imagine you at a big Cineplex, though if you were, I bet you d happily new cars throw down for an oil-mogul s-size bucket of sweet kernel. OK! So: 1/ my favourite new cars Cassavetes film is without a doubt The Killing of a Chinese Bookie . The film is many things, but the relevant part to you, to us now, is its brilliant fuck-you to conventional film technique. Sometimes you re really watching a terribly edited, disconnected, amateurish thing that refuses new cars pleasures in competency, mainline/mainstream goodness. Pace Bernadette Mayer: The idea of perfection in a poem is pretty stupid. new cars This is something you often warn: forsake not the vital forces for mere cosmetic lawn, so to speak. Let the poem s unruly hair grow! 2/ Yes, I think there are many X s in a poem, bad pun intended. But I don t know if a poem must always concern at least one such ghost. Or maybe we, the human-we, write our poems and X is the dangling carrot, while the poet-we, smarter, insinuative, new cars sublating all over the place, new cars gets the tough job down thanks new cars to X-distraction. holds it almost as dogma that the poet s best as a receiver, our memories and aesthetics just part of the inescapable furniture of the room that the poem tries to speak through and transcend. Poet-as-radio. What s interesting to me, though: new cars he deems the unconscious new cars or repressed new cars as equally irrelevant to the signal new cars s importance; automatic writing isn t about liberation or excavated self-insight. The form or, rather, the shaping powers of language, that s what s magical, yet if I m hearing him right, that s also what s coming from elsewhere. I wonder how that gels with you and your sense of the Metaphysical Eye? After all, you write lectures too now! Preach, speak, new cars clarify!
DL: OK, Capricorn, first, in case you were wondering, my favourite Cassavetes film is Opening Night . And I guess it makes sense too why I would love that. But you are right that he does appreciate new cars things that aren t meant to be perfect, as if that could be. I love a ragged beauty and I always will. But I think I might love ragged emotions in art, versus just ragged edges. I wonder if Mayer s work is considered to be a ragged beauty. I don t think it is, but some might think it is, I know. I don t think you do. Or maybe you do. Do you? Also, yes, Robert Polito and I love popcorn, and this was evidenced at Home School this summer. I think it is because we are old-timey and respect what must be preserved. I know that Lucie Brock-Broido loves popcorn, too, and maybe other poets do, too? But for me, popcorn is and is not about watching movies, especially new cars in a big theatre. And I don t want big theatres to die more than I care whether books become digital or not. When I was in high school, I went to the movies almost every Friday late night with my adorable boyfriend and I don t think I did eat popcorn. I think I ate Twizzlers new cars and used them as Diet Coke straws. Also, I love that Spicer lecture and believe it does have some root in what I think of as the Metaphysical I (I love that you wrote Eye, cause of course it is that, too). The poet listens to the radio show and then receives what it hears. Maybe the frequency or station it encounters is random (or maybe nothing is random, depending on your belief), and maybe the ears hear only what they want to. Still, the poem comes o