I see from Bill Knott's latest blog posting

that he's (on some level) throwing in the towel--

he proclaims that his poetry 'is and has always been a failure'--

I sympathize/identify completely with his feelings--

Knott has long been one of my determinative influences--

the discovery--so long ago--of The Naomi Poems: Corpse and Beans

set me on my way--surrealism does no justice to the alternative realities

this man conjures--and to my young overly impressed eyes the blurbs alone

sent my mind into throes of encouragement--

"These poems give asylum to the orphan in each of us"--John Logan--

"The voice, the person...so intense, present...that I'd rather read

"even his weaker poems than many poets' best,

"including 'good' poets" -- W.S. Merwin

"Saint Geraud [ah how I loved that pen name and the inclusive dates 1940-1966]

"is one of the best young poets in America. He's terrific"--Kenneth Rexroth

and now--over a generation later--this master of what? magic realism?

goofy puns? savage clownery? heartbreaking tenderness? (how undefinable

the true originals are--to their detriment--)

can't get shake from anyone--

I can't say anything--I've labored as long and also to as little effect--

the Official Gatekeepers of Our Cultural Institutions

have flushed us down the Memory Hole--

(I have yet to even bother trying to self-publish through Lulu--

I wonder more and more 'why bother?'--who'll hear? who'll care?)

Knott is so unique--so inventive--so utterly sui generis--the academic

mahatmas cannot classify him or conveniently label him--

these lazy stupid vain conservative schoolyard failures

having their petty revenge on the bullies with their

glory-hound posturings and their anointed canons--

(oops--there goes my chance for scholastic immortality--now I've done it!--

and these little daisy-chain fuckers never forget or forgive a slight--

it's No. 2 lead pencils at twenty paces forever now)

I guess I'm sorry to see my last vestige of role model worship go--

to see him bite the dust the same way I'm biting it--the last delusions gone--

but what I try to remember--and what I hope Knott remembers

is that our work may only be 'failures' in our own eyes--

and only because we wanted in--but suffer for not ruining what integrity

we have by playing by their rules--

I hope for Knott what I hope for myself--that all our work--

finished achievements--ancillary projects--archival remains--be somehow

preserved physically--and at some point disseminated by someone

simpactio to our concerns--the work is valid to everyone but us--

it did what it was supposed to do--it was not all in vain--

and I'm sorry I'll never be able to convey this to him--

I'm as marginal as he is--and he doesn't even know

I or my work exist--and who knows if he'd even care for it

if he came across it--Christ--the joke of it!!!

I'm also getting too old for this bullshit--

I'd rather settle my worldly estate--leave it all

to the deftly clumsy hands of contingency--and enjoy

this moment--peaceful--at least for this moment--

I'm tired of breaking my only heart--and I look for the courage to rest--

even if I break down and write something tomorrow--

it will end of its own accord--when and how it will--

I hope I'll be ready for that

and I hope as much for Knott--

Content (c) 2008-2011 Philip Milito.