I should really tell people something(s) about The Book.
The Book is 2 years in the making and another 3 of procrastinating.
I wrote maybe the first third in nether nether land and the rest in oompapa.
Ive gotten over The Book.
Its style, its concern with the Imagist cred(o), its Stevens-y titles.
It contains a lot of aborted take-offs. (This was from when the previous line ended with ‘Stevens-y flights of the Imagination.’)
You see, its hard to tell you anything about The Book, without giving you The Book.
But I want you to buy The Book.
Ive gotten over It but I feel its important that I record what Ive gotten over.
Sort of kinda like having the current WR time/jump/lift hanging off your back like the proverbial literal monkey.
Today I found out its gonna be about 130 pages long.
Thats pretty cool. That makes it 87 pages longer than Sanoesi Panes Puspa Mega and 3 more than John Ashberys Your Name Here.
My name where ?
Theres gonna be Elvis in it.
Theres always Elvis in me.
The King Never Dies, Long Live etc.
Punk Not Dead.
The Book is breathing. Murmuring.
