Note: I'm picking on poetry here because of all forms, it is the most elusive. But my following comments could be applied to art in general.
Maybe because I was looking for a reason to give up on what had already proven to be an unfortunate read, but this section of The Book of Lazarus frothed all the ill-will I had toward (most) poetry:
I have seen that there is no predetermined direction to the birth of a word, that words move across the page like beams of random light moving through immense...
Published on October 29, 2009 15:24