Whether or not it's a sentence fragment is not an opinion. Whether or not it should STAY a sentence fragment would be an opinion, but I did not express any such opinion. Merely asked.

sure. She can do whatever the fuck she wants. Then, subsequently, we the readers can SAY whatever the fuck we want about what she did. That's the famous corollary to Poetic License--Reader's License. Also know as the Calling You on Your Bullshit License.

The amazon link doesn't work for me, but instead takes me to either "Middlesex: a Novel" or "One Hundred Years of Solitude (Oprah's Book Club)"

I thank you for that comment and can see that you have understood what i was trying to capture.

I think I know Fred Chappell from eratosphere. The most contemporary poet I know is Martha Hollander. Some years ago I spent a day reading obscure poetry reviews in the library, hating almost all of it save this one poem by Martha Hollander. So I bought her book, Game of Statues, which I still read occasionally and still find beautiful.

Yes, it's excellent. My favourite of the Iain M. Banks bunch is Use of Weapons. And of the Iain Banks bunch, I guess I would say The Crow Road. With The Bridge as a close second. I think there's only one that I haven't read yet.

Have you read The Player of Games?

You might also consider the new _Compleat Annotated Jodhpur Manuscripts_ (in folio with -=darkangel=-'s original marginal notations and squiggle-pen doodlings: www.amazon.com/exec/obidos/jodhpur.html) with a fascinating forward by Sir Hilary Wainscotting of the Cumberland Gazette Enquirer and Sunday Book Supplement entitled "The Mistress' Jodhpurs: Proto-feminism and Authorship Issues in the Manuscripts" in which the author argues (cogently, I believe,) that the near-complete absence of women (ie, Lady Proud-Stocking) in the so-called 'Proud-Stocking Canon' belies a nascent proto-feminist sympathy (ie, the Lady has indeed been 'liberated' from the text itself.) He goes on to suggest (compellingly) that Lord Proud-Stocking (who notoriously denengrated his estranged wife) did not possess the degree of sophistication which is evident in the careful layering of imagery and allusion in the Manuscripts, concluding that the 14th Duke of Northumberland, Percy Cackering (who notoriously shagged Proud-Stocking's wife,) is the most likely real author. This is, you should know, considered heresy by many Judhpur scholars. Wainscotting supports his argument (assiduously, I should add,) with a fascinating reading of the Jodhpur Sequence in light of Northumberland's own close studies of the early hymns of Caedmon, in which he reads the old English 'Geæfpðhr' (ie, husk,) as 'Jodhpur'. The rest of the essay is more difficult to decipher, consisting mainly of (seemingly) drunken tirades against the aforementioned Jodhpur scholars and random speculations on the possibility of wearing husks instead of woolens. The editors also provide an extensive concordance, none of whose entries (which are all distinctly scatalogical, I should add,) lead to real pages. I hope this helps you on your search.

Excuse me, but your assertion that most poets are assholes is simply that, an assertion. Completely unwarranted. Perhaps you mean to say most of the participants on this site are assholes. In which case it could be argued that most of the folks here are only excercising their freedoms and their anonymity, of which there is so little of in this beleaguered existence. What would you do/say if you knew you could get away with it? That sort of thing. What I mean to say is you really should spend a moment contemplating your own remarks before you flippantly and offhandedly soil the name of so universally revered and diverse a group as "The Poets".

ah, I see...

Also, I feel like I've come across recently as the giant flamer and jerk of the ranker, which is not what I intend. But when someone responds to an honest criticism like a sulking child, it makes me think they never intended to have their poetry critiqued (ie, ranked) in the first place - and sometimes I respond in kind. That's all. And I like a lot of the stuff here. I don't think that shows.

Agreed. All I'm saying is express your individualism, not someone else's.

It's different everywhere and every day. Most 'poets of note' get in the New Yorker at some point, I know that. But really the whole field's fragmented to the point of being meaningless. Everybody likes to flaunt their current local poets, who are generally little known outside of their region (Okay, Fred Chappell may be an exception from these parts, but Katherine Stripling Byer, anyone? Yet she's in the new Norton Modern Poetry) What it comes down to is we're more or less as famous as the latest North Atlantic all-star - that is, we get our poems read by maybe 20 people each. And we get fun comments, which they don't. As far as fiction, I read a lot of Carol Shields (whom you probably know,) and think she's one of the best writers of the last ten years. I recently read Bel Canto and thought it was good, and Francisco Goldman's two weird novels.

I don't want praise for something that's trash... all I wanted was for weeknesses to be pointed out which you did... No wait, where am I going with that. Let's try this approach instead, poetry is about expression of individualism.

No. Poetic license is when writers who are already immensely famous (usually for no particular reason) do annoying things that people who don't know better have to respect. We, the drudges in the black coal-mines of poetry, are not entitled to it. When we try, they tell us we're just amateurish.

nothing against what you say (as some stuff people reply to creates arguments, I've learned) ...but wouldn't that just be called a "poetic license"? ...but I'm kind of new to poetry terms right now... so correct me if I'm wrong.