Friday, August 10, 2012

Allen Bramhall

Why Do We Keep These?

As a youth with bear claws, I influenced Robert Lowell. He was 907 years old, I was a trifle. Inklings dripped 
from his poetry page. I told him there were eagles in the bay, sleeping on forgotten foundries slipping silently 
into wet regret. He said he was busy with broccoli.

I told him broccoli invents a green spire that consumes the thought of Mars (the planet). He said his wife 
radiated in a plop. I asked if he knew what plop was. He drank himself insane, in reply. The year was 1959. 
I never knew which wife he meant. 

Insane is not so bad, when you are gifted, without gunk, I advocated like polis. Robert Lowell told Robert 
Grenier that a poem has exclusion built in. Robert Grenier scribbled something that changed the horizon. 
Project Poetry ate a third of all known adjectives until steam in Greenland melted the thought of something 
else. Everybody has to wear underwear.

We all relate to grey clouds, with foam backing.


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