Cahiers de Corey
"A notebook is an homage to surprise." (Mark Rudman)
Wednesday, July 09, 2003
, and I talk and smile.
Where others lock their rhymes and thoughts away
I let mine out, and chatter all the while.
I'm rarely on my own - a wasted day
Is any day that's spent without a friend,
With nothing much to do or hear or say.
I like to be with people, and depend
On company for being entertained;
Which seems a good solution, in the end.
What Poetry Form Are You?
I do like the form, but I have a little trouble with the content. Oh well, it's always like that.
Post a Comment
Post Comments (Atom)
This is gonna be a loooooong post. What follows is a freely edited transcription of my notes from the Zukofsky/100 conference at Columbia t...
Poetics of the Multiple
Midway through my life's journey comes a long moment of reflection and redefinition regarding poetics (this comes in place of the conver...
Thursday, September 29, 2011 Berlin. Fog of sleep deprivation coloring an otherwise perfect blue autumn day a sort of miasmic yellow i...
The Burning Typewriter, or, Elif Batuman Strikes Again
Elif Batuman has amplified her criticism of the discipline of creative writing (which I've written about before ) in a review-essay tha...
"the poetry of self-promotion"
My title is taken from the comments stream of an article recently published by The Chronicle of Higher Education , David Alpaugh's "...
On a Sunday
Trained it down to DePaul's Loop campus this morning to take part in a panel, "Why Writers Should Blog," alongside Tony Trigil...
Change of Address
Will be blogging more or less permanently now at http://www.joshua-corey.com/blog/ . Or follow me on Twitter: @joshcorey
Cinematic Prose and Its Posthuman Other
In one week Lake Forest will hold its commencement and I'll take off my professor's hat for the summer. A few weeks later, in June, ...
Farewell, Barbara Guest .
After Form Fails
That's one of my own lines. From an untitled (they're all untitled) severance song: After form fails a furling, reports dying away,...