a new literary love...

Having grown up with books as sacred religion in our house I must admit to a fairly well rounded literary knowledge. Though I have still MASSES of classics to read before I consider myself a true intellectual, I feel confident discussing most monuments of prose.

My poetry knowledge, however, is largely limited to Russian classics...Akhmatova, Pushkin, Lermontov...the big guns. There is a fervent obsession with e.e. cummings, for I feel his writing is the equivalent of Rothko's amazing-ness.
I am, sadly, not up to date on modern poetry mostly because I like poetry that has rhythm...a feeling...a driving force. A poem that makes a statement...not limps along relying on the crutches of hyperbole and "artistic pause" to appear unique. Poetry that can stand up to a good prose is hard to find...it is even less often thought-provoking, playful, uncomfortable or quotable.

Thus I present to you the boner-inducing, stunningly cynical and utterly brilliant Frederick Seidel, "the poet the 20th century deserved." OBSSESSED. 

"Spring"
I want to date-rape life. I kiss the cactus spines. 
Running a fever in the cold keeps me alive. 
My twin, the garbage truck seducing Key Foods, whines
And dines and crushes, just like me, and wants to drive
I want to drive into a drive-in bank and kiss
and kill you, life. Sag Harbor, I'm your lover. I'm
yours Sagaponack too. This shark of bliss
I input generates a desert slick  as slime.