I went down to the bookstore this evening and found myself in the poetry section. But for every thin book of poems there was a thick biography of the poet and an even thicker book by someone who’s supposed to know explaining what the poet is supposed to’ve said and why he didn’t. So you don’t have to waste your time on the best the writer could do, the words he fought the darkness and himself for, the unequal battle with beauty. Instead you can read comfortably about the worst the writer could do: the mess he made of his life, how he fought with his family, cheated on his lovers, didn’t pay his debts and not only drank too much but all the stupid things he ever said to the bartender just before getting 86’d will be printed for you and they’re just as stupid as the things everyone… Read more →