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Showing posts from July, 2012

Blimp Pilot Blues

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Bob Watt: Great Inferior Poet Passes

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How many beautiful bodies/can Dylan garner a night --/ 50 - 100? How many can James Dickey garner'/two - or three?/How do all the girls with beautiful bodies /who get aced out, for dickey or dylan feel? - Poetry & Beautiful Bodies (1970) Came to learn from Dave Murray recently that great Milwaukee poet Bob Watt died. It happened in January. It was old news to many, but it was new news to me. This set the mind neuros to popping. I think I’m going back to the time when Bob Watts’ poetry first blew my mind. I remember when I first heard Bob Watts poetry: it was sudden and familiar. Music of Milwaukee, Wisconsin, the Midwest. Most importantly it said that poetry was right here, where we were. Not far. Moreover it did not have to wear a sportscoat. One with leather elbow patches. Watt was an exterminator. On the outskirts. His obit tells us he was in the service in Japan. That gave him a jump on Zen, maybe.    In a local night club, a girl got drunk/ And yelled, “I...