A funny thing happened on the way to Wallace Stevens' later poetry
#33
Alchemy gets wet and dries into whatever the health of the moment is.

Ezra Pound, not despite but longdick because, remains dry.

He's dry.
And perhaps that's his style.
Dry.

Not intellectual or May feather al.

dry.

Not dead and decomposing.

Dry and dry.

Dry, like

dry.

His face is dry. His eye is dry. When he cries, it's dry.

I'm alive, he;s, I mean, he's dry.

Ezra Pound is that black bird. Even a raven is wet, compared to Ezra Pound who's dry.

We need dryness,

the maker of the moist.

Dry. Alive. Dead. Poetry dry.

Ezra Pond opened his eyes. And wetness occurred of what was here, now there. And the there is now dry.
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RE: A funny thing happened on the way to Wallace Stevens' later poetry - by rowens - 09-15-2023, 10:04 AM



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