Is it really going to have to be necessary to exhume White Male Poet? I wanted him to do his good work and sail then into the sunset. I only ever wanted to feel safe in the space of my own blog and not to feel attacked and or systematically excluded (by the medium, the tone, the language, or the participants). And for others to not to too. O Internet, be more waffle-like, soft and full of syrupy pillows. Continue to direct my attention to what underlies, to number 5, to all things against narcissism, hopeless aggression and waste. At Artifact on Saturday, as Brent dragged us late talkers out the door, I vaguely remember saying something about O that's one big Olsonian cock, and that one over there (pointing to the cat/the flower pot?), that's more like Pound's. Which is to say, the readings & conversations this weekend were inspiring and did not take place on the internet or in comment boxes. And I had a bit of whiskey. WMP RIP.


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