Go to Project Gutenberg. Simultaneously, the rapid digitization of texts has also opened up whole new methods of reading, finding and textual manipulation all with new potential for artistic appropriation. Compared to Canadian found poetry of the 70s, recent examples, though still continuing the work of historical restoration and revision, are much more interested in dissent.
That found poetry can be a medium for protest might seem unlikely; indeed, flarf has been criticized for its seeming blindness to the un-neutral commercial interests that power the search algorithms upon which it depends. Its engineered play within shifting temporal and cultural contexts exalts in exposing the ridiculousness and offensiveness of previous narrative structures, writers and their writing.
A new context motivates new meanings. Constraining itself to the word decision of the Gregson v. Gilbert legal case about hundreds of African slaves murdered by the captain of the Zong in , M. In the first sections, the poems are constructed from whole words; by the last section, however, the poem has begun to rip the words apart and compose new vocabularies.
Much of the power of Zong! Kate Eichorn, writing about Zong!
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If I boycott you from my point of view I boycott you. I boycott you who boycott girls, without girls, you cannot exist and I boycott you Canada!!! Really, Pampers?
From the Archive, Issue 229
Must I boycott you too? I boycott you blog that is full of shit. I boycott you illiterate Facebook applications. The reasons I boycott you?
At first, it was simply because it was so hard. Life is not easy, but having a support system makes life that much easier. Why are you doing this, ruining your life? The only thing you've accomplished is causing stress and strife We're all trying to help you with this hard and trying time But you think we're crazy, it's all in your mind Read Complete Poem. Talk about hitting the nail on the head!
I am a mom who has relapsed a couple times over the last 6 months. It was pretty bad. I have kids, ages 16, 20, and They have literally been Read complete story. This traffic light inside my head Is always green and never red. My thoughts, my dreams, and all my fears, They all speed past my listening ears. I wish I could call each of these people whose stories I just read after reading your poem and story and say you are making a difference in someone's day whether you get to know it or not!
I come home every night and in my eyes you can see fear and fright my parents argue and raise their fists This poem is so deep.
Reuse and Recycle: Finding Poetry in Canada: the full essay from Arc 70 : Arc Poetry
We don't realize how much a child has to listen to and the weight it puts on them. It is sad that this has happened in so many families when two adults suffer from a A mother and son were parted at birth, Wrenched from each other on this terrible earth, With no place to go she walks through the night, Looking for somewhere till the morning light. This poem is so true. It almost made me cry. I am 13 years old and lived 13 years without my mom. The feckless post-confessional poem, along with the whole workshop culture of that era—the groping, alcoholic elders, the nubile recruits—obviously had to go.
Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez on the 2020 Presidential Race and Trump’s Crisis at the Border
But Language poetry hastened its demise, and its critique of institutions made perfect sense. If only the poetry had been better. And on and on: the tired puns, the mugging post-everything politics, the harangues, the joyless jouissance. Boy, did it catch on.
Hard Times Poems
Since anti-institutional assaults of sufficient vigor inevitably end up being institutionalized, the Language canon is taught in Ivy League colleges and is now even published by trade houses. This happens, to some degree, in all self-conscious literary movements. Still, real differences among the individuals have since come to light, chiefly differences in talent, and Armantrout is by an order of magnitude the best poet of the group.
In them, she puts her mind to big philosophical questions—matter, energy, metaphysics, time—and reminds us how pleasurable it is to be in the company of a somewhat old-fashioned desire to figure such things out. But the mind in these poems is attached to a person, and people have all kinds of troubling entanglements. Armantrout has friends, students, a husband, and a son, Aaron, the last of whom she writes about especially beautifully. Beautifully, but never quite directly.
Modern & Contemporary American Poetry (“ModPo”)
Signs of youth mingle with symptoms of age. Then back to Halloween, via and with an homage to Anna Nicole chemo wigs and hats. Ashbery and Armantrout do consciousness-depiction, and since my consciousness is so different from yours they can be hard to understand. Both are poets who appeal to insiders and specialists, but both have made clear how much is gained by putting a riddle in the middle of the culture. For the rest of us, there remains the huge pleasure of supposing.
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Braced by harmony, bludgeoned by decoration the dream surgeon hobbles three steps over, two steps beside.