You know what time it is

It's poetry time, kids. So pull up an interweb and let me seduce you with my poetic wares.

( poem: Victimology )

....

In my quest to rehabilitate myself to poetry, I've been reading up on those wot are far better at this than I am. This week has been reading up on Plath, Hughes, Cummings, Eliot, Sexton, and Rich.

And I just found out some things about Anne Sexton that make me hesitant to read her work ever again, because I know I'm going to read it with a decidedly hostile slant. Which sucks, because I really liked "Her Kind".

I think next week is going to be Greco-Roman poets. Not that as a bunch they were any nicer than the group I'm reading up on now, but frankly, after years of Latin and Classics nothing Roman can shock me. Four years of damnably inventive sodomy and emperors appointing their horses to the senate (*) and I'm all yawns.

(*) Why yes, there is a joke about horses (or the asses thereof) being in the Senate somewhere in there. I'm glad you noticed, too.