the world a letter

New Poker, only browsing. First, the Spicer poems, which are gorgeous; they show him entirely willing to be beautiful; especially the first, [the third man], which motions are--I'm trying to avoid cliche superlatives here, failing--lets just say breathtakingly intimate. Fun, lovely. I'm not succeeding in avoiding cliche superlatives. At least I didn't say 'rollercoaster hairpin,' i.e. unexpected juxtaposition & simultaneous continuity. Ugh, I'm all verbal thumbs tonite, ugly. I suggest you just read the poems yourself, enjoy.

Question: is it just my biased ear, or is Spicer obsessed with Stevens? I find myself doubletaking frequently when reading Spicer, at echoes of Stevens coming out of some direction the poem takes, moreso than with very many poets. Maybe because I don't expect the two to meet, though maybe I shouldn't be so surprised, Spicer has his Platonist preoccupations too. Strangely enough, I also find Creeley, sometimes, maybe most so when he hazards images, fairly Stevens-esque.

And the first Kaia Sand poem is funny, like laugh-out-loud funny.