Close Calls With Nonsense

Not sure whether the sermon– used to such brilliant effect by writers from, say, John Donne to Dr. King– is still a live art form? Read this short new one, and you will feel sure.

Still reading the stack of AWP-books, in between other, more urgent matters (e.g. writing a lecture on Wordsworth, playing with Nathan and Nathan’s school friends). I’m not sure what, exactly, I want to do about this book-length poem by Laurel Blossom, composed not in lines but in freestanding sentences, and encompassing, tersely, her dramatic life, including her tempestuous parents, her alcoholic past, and her present as a world traveller (hence the title) with particular attraction to polar regions. I am sure that this book could get stunningly popular, especially if the people who read literary memoirs, but don’t read much current poetry, realize that it’s a poem but it’s also a memoir.