When Poets Collide

I think Logan just improved Wright's style by 95%; look:

If there is ever the slightest possibility
of our finding ourselves
in the same room or general vicinity,
I want to advise and plead with you
to get away from that place, fast,
because if I find out about it,
I assure you
it is distinctly possible
that I will not be able
to resist giving you
the crippling beating
you so clearly
masochistically
desire.
I do not wish to kill you
or hurt you,
and so I beg you
to get away from me,
without delay, if you realize
we are in the same room
somewhere.
Best,
Franz.

Posted by Doug at July 7, 2004 7:31 PM

Well, I'm am definitely not a poet. But himself once wrote:

There once was a poet
that rhymed his wasses
with other wasses.

And himself also wrote:

And now I lay me down with sheep,
I pray to cod, my sole to keep,
And should I dye ‘afore I wake,
Please don’t make me codfish cake.

For on the ‘morrow,this tale must go,
Sleep and stance alters woe.
Wouldn't Ogden Nash be proud
To be amongst this crowd.

I hereby end my poetic career.

Posted by ellen's brother at July 7, 2004 8:54 PM

What was the adage about the viciousness of argument being inverse to the stakes involved? (or something like that).

I don't really read poetry, so I could care less, but its always entertaining to see actual threats of physical violence out of poets and writers over a review of their work.

That says more about them than their work ever could.

Posted by Eric Blair at July 8, 2004 12:09 PM

What would you know about how to respond when spoken of by "critics" like Logan? As a nonentity and moron who will never be noticed for doing anything, it's all pretty theoretical for you. You people are so strange. Wright's work is "puerile" yet it is quite clear you have no familiarity with it. Do you realize there is an actual living human being on the other end of these comments of yours. There is something monstrous about mediocre minds.

Posted by FW at February 22, 2005 10:39 PM

I have read James Wright and his heavy elaborate
words. And then a small light, with a
tiny powerful voice that was his son- shone
through a tiny window. The most astounding
things in nature can be described in two words
by a craftsmen, while the old poet flounders prolifically to describe the sun, or rivers or briges or the way death leaves the room momentarily and never returns with millions
of metaphors. True poetry is "sudden" like a heart attack and minimal like the last audible words. That is Franz Wright. Vive le son!

Posted by Rachel Phillips at December 11, 2005 11:48 PM

I wonder if I was the first to come up with the idea of the title> ©(When Poets Collide)©.It was my brain-child for our new Book.© Steve Chering & Barbara Elizabeth Mercer.©

Posted by Steve Chering at May 21, 2007 8:34 AM

Hard to say since it is unclear from your book when the title was first thought of.

Overall, doubful however. Since it can be seen by searching the phrase in Google that this particular entry clocked in in July of 2004.

I also note a poem with the title "When Poets Collide" in Exquisite Corpse #10 published in by Rebecca Lu Kiernan in 2001, so the poem would have to have existed before that time. [ http://corpse.org/issue_10/poesy/kiernan.html ]

Posted by Gerard Van der Leun at May 22, 2007 5:20 AM

The Logan/Wright verbal jousting reminds me of Pope and his detractors in eighteenth-century Britain. As the novel rose in popularity, poetic skirmishing became the trend.

Posted by chella courington at October 18, 2009 1:11 PM