what Dan says Jack spicer says, I love Wallace Stevens. And this one, and this, and this. And so on.
It sounds goofy, I know, but S read Stevens's poems to me (and also Barry Hannah stories) during long drives across Texas and the hayricks and crows we saw through the windows of the the Bel Air resonated with the poems and we were at our best just beginning, and I'd never give them up. (I get car sick when I read in a moving vehicle, sometimes even in a plane--curses--so this set-up was a necessity, since we had a vacuum-tube operated radio with no reception.)
Aside: I've been hanging on to The Car (see above) for the last 8 years we've been in New York--hoping to move somewhere or bring it up here. (I fantasize about a garage. I dream I'm driving. Sometimes I'm also missing my motorcycle--a 1972 Honda 350cc, red with lots of chrome. I love to drive.) Just hasn't happened. It sits there, pining in Arlington, TX. It's the only material possession (besides my Pez and typewriter collections) that I've ever given a damn about.
I'm not nearly as old as my taste in motor vehicles would lead you to believe.
Wait, we're supposed to be talking poetry. Back to proofreading LIT.
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