“There are some fine lines in these poems, but as a whole they are still struggling to find their centers.” -Emprise Review
Today, as I clicked around on the internet, re-realizing the horror and miracle of the vicarious imagination, I realized that the smallness and high density of the globalized world has made me mostly confused. It is very difficult to remain focused on anything when millions of interesting things are equally within reach.
Things I don’t understand: Randomness, economics (yet), how to organize my time and not get distracted (but I don’t mind?), why I should minimize tangents and chaos anyway.
I’m not struggling to find my center. I don’t believe there is one. If there is, it is multiple, and definitely not inside me. My poems are the same way. I am “struggling” to escape the center.
Finally, I know I said I was going to write weekly reviews and read 2 books a week, and I written anything after the first post. But I have been reading.
I’ll update later when I feel like it and type all about ken and lucas and ben and richard and it seems I haven’t been reading many female authors lately.