Saturday and Its Festooned Potential
EW: Sound and image move, associatively through the poem. It's Saturday sitting on a stoop and "one becomes a poem". In this scenario, what are you drinking?
EH: Is it fall? Vodka and Beers. Winter? Scotch. Summer? Gin. Drugs: fall: codiene. Winter: Zoloft and Xanax. And cocaine. Summer: Percocet, expired diluadid, or morphine.
EW: So is that an associative movement through intoxicants? "when the overgrown skyway/becomes calm/humans get quiet" you get quiet. "To be beside and becoming" what did you eat for lunch today?
EH: No lunch. Life..Another intoxicant...
EW: The sweet draught of a fulfilled life, huh? I can see how that works for you. "Light whooping/and speckled". I resist the festooned potential. Love adornment, love being lulled by these lines, love the echoes of Stevens, but there's something of the ivory tower here. I adore and resist it. Am I even invited to this party?