Michael Basinski

cait collins, queen goddess of American poem anti-poetry - Demeter of us in  the underground: Her music was her vision of an endlessly proliferating  poetry that celebrated all that was erotic in life and language. Oh what a rebel, like an ocean, like a refrigerator full of beer. And the dishes will never need washing and all the underwear is silk. Oh cait. Damn. Damn. I am  heavy with grief, a string in the bill of an idiot sparrow. It has been  near a month and only now I can begin this scribble. I think by now you have found the bar what Bukowski drinks at. I bet, for sure. Write me. What did he say when you told him one of your books was called Smell Me?  Oh cait. cait, you are missed.

[Home]