they’re right behind me aren’t they?

Heather Myers, CPO
Chief Poop Officer
Pudgy Dog

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Poetic Thought of the Day: Priority, Authority and Poetic Wisdom

Dr. Rinaldi's Horror Cabinet

I’ve grown skeptical of Harold Bloom over the years as he began sinking down into a more lackadaisical mode of thought and performance. I still enjoy going back from time to time and reading his The Anxiety of Influence and The Map of Misreading, which along with Agon: Towards a Theory of Revisionism and his small book on Kabbalah and its critical tools form to me the principle works that will remain. His later works are more for general audiences: The Western Canon, Genius, and his endless works of critical reviews and essays, etc. Bloom’s work has always been more of a Rube Goldberg contraption for me. I’ve never taken it as more than a map not of poetry, but of Bloom’s mind of poetry. I think that’s true of any critic you read on poetry and poets. You’re reading a critical or navigation map of the great poetry of…

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Why Always You

Arrested With Love

As I walk down among
the multitude of shrubs
Your lucky fragrance charms
my heart and captured my soul
As I walk through the street of
houses you made one a home for me
Your radiating personality quenched
my thirst for beer with a rushing milk
of your heart, the fuming smokes smell
from your kitchen have enlarged my appetite
Rounding up my tummy just like a pregnant woman
Hungry to behold your face before bed light off have
chained my walk-about leg, with you in my life there
Is Always a beautiful scene even when i dream no more.
My soul is healed because I perceives the fragrance of
Your ever presence around me, being around you completes
The joy of my life, I cry don’t be far from me my love.

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