Category: “Unpoetry”

“Disjunctive Poetics“ and Objectivist Poetry

Another update with current reflections on unpoetry from 2022. This results from research into “Disjunctive Poetics: From Gertrude Stein and Louis Zukofsky to Susan Howe” by Peter Quartermain, and several works on the objectivist poets.

This meditation concerns itself with “language as object.” Alienation from the English language, or, in my opinion, any language at all, creates a certain relationship between the poet and the words in his or her poetry. Syntax can become difficult, and meaning, impossible.

Words are used like pigments in an abstract expressionist or cubist painting, in which a bunch of objects are juxtaposed together in a seemingly random (though sometimes, but sometimes not, with carefully chosen placement) and detached manner. Whether it is a flick of the brush, a dumping of a can of paint, or just a very barbaric collection of images that shocks or confuses.

This is unpoetry, folks! It’s the same thing, just done with language. Word as object, in a collage, or maybe a series of nonsensical statements. Absurdity abounds. An alienation from reality that results in an alienation from society, and an alienation in a failed attempt, over and over again, to communicate.

gsb3

Home

Floor rug used to be there now it’s laminate and tile cold floor cold on bare feet in slippers sometimes when it’s cold outside and sometimes inside

Too rarely we have a fire in the fireplace but not often she likes the fire to keep warm and to watch it and it’s toasty so sometimes I make it.

Pets we have lots dogs cats and birds they live indoors they stay here sometimes they go outside the yellow lab is a guide dog my wife is visually impaired so the lab goes to work with her every day sometimes we go on trips and the chihuahua comes too

We are going camping soon with her sister and her husband and I think they will bring their dogs too it should be fun I went camping with my family last year we had a good time we ate well. We went to a county fair there were cows and horses there were amusement rides and lots of food there was a car show too and big tractors.

Buried

Stove cook eat necessary live dog doesn’t mice aren’t welcome yard full of grass and dirt trees full of birds and squirrels nothing too strange road is busy sometimes but not often no sidewalks in my neighborhood wires across the yard from poles to houses maybe some are buried

Just Nonsense

I took the bucket, filled it up with water, then dumped it on Jerry’s head.

“Hey, C’mon!” he said.

“Let’s dance!” came a voice from inside the side door to the house.

“I don’t LIKE vegetables!” said another voice through the window.

“Your name is Mud!” Jerry said.

Then a wild hippopotamus ran through the yard. It was hot pink, with purple and white poke-a-dots all over.

“Is that a hippopotamus?” I asked Jerry.

“Don’t change the subject!” Jerry shouted.

“I like animals, but this is ridiculous,” I said.

“Why did you dump water on my head?” Jerry asked.

“Why do birds suddenly appear—every time— you draw near?” I sang to the tune of the Carpenters’ song.

“Why do I put up with you?” Jerry huffed.

“Help! You know, I need somebody. Help! Not just anybody. Help! You know, I need someone. Heeeelp!” I sang to the Beatles tune.

“What are you getting at?” cried Jerry.

“I’m looking at the man in the mirror. I’m asking him to change his ways,” I sang, to the Michael Jackson tune.

“This is pointless,” said Jerry. “I can’t think straight.”

“Might as well jump! Go ahead, jump!” I sang to the Van Halen song.

“You make no sense,” Jerry said.

“I have no sense,” I said.

“Here we are, both of us friends,” Jerry sang.

“That’s what I’m talkin’ ‘bout,” I said.