Notes On Louis Zukofsky’s “A”
Having completed my reading of Louis Zukofsky’s “A” I can now offer a few notes on my experience. Of course, this is such a voluminous work full of subtleties, rich with linguistic verities, and containing a magnitude of philosophical and poetic meanderings, it would take a lifetime to work through it all. But I do have some thoughts. “A” is definitely a work of a large imagination. I can’t say that I like it all. But I can’t say that I don’t like any of it. The work is too large for a blanket judgment. That said, I admire Zukofsky’s passion and dedication to the work. Forty years in the making, it is perhaps one of the

Poetry Video Friday: Disillusionment Of Ten O’Clock
It’s not the best reading in the world, but after a couple of weeks of being under the weather I thought this poem by Wallace Stevens might be apropos. Written in 1915, “Disillusionment of Ten O’Clock” is still one of the great poetic mysteries of the 20th century. At least, I think so.

The Nuts And Bolts Of Zukofsky
After reading 12-1/2 chapters of “A” by Louis Zukofsky, I’m convinced Zukofsky must have been a lunatic. Only such a person could have spent an entire life on a work such as “A”. I’m sure “A” has some literary value, but in large part it is a mad rambling. Zukofsky has the ability to make me think, in one moment, that he is a genius, and in the next, a self-consumed cogitator. These may be qualities that endear me to him. Chapter 12 drones on for 135 pages. Zukofsky’s poetics is difficult to comprehend, though on a fundamental level it is quite simple. He is able to take a visual and incorporate it into the text, adding

Why I Love My Wife
My wife is a great woman. When I ask for chicken broth she brings it to me. And she does other things too. But I needed chicken broth last night and she made me the best cup of broth I’ve ever had. Thanks, wife. I’ve been fighting a cold now for three days. So no video today. We’ll be picking back up on video Friday next week.

Zukofsky’s Ballade
Yesterday I announced I was reading Louis Zukofsky’s “A”. The poem is decidedly written in the mode of free verse – most parts of it anyway. But imagine my surprise when, at the end of Part 8, I’m reading along and happen upon a Ballade. Right in the middle of the poem. Zukofsky was a Modernist. So it shouldn’t surprise me that he did this. All the Modernist’s wrote this way to some extent. One of my favorites, T.S. Eliot, was very adept at it. Nevertheless, Zukofsky