3/2/13

Sit Your Horny Ass Down!

I now think that Bill Williams was one of the few real "innocents" in the modernist movement. While Pound and his buddies were loitering in Paris, Williams was delivering babies in Paterson, NJ. He wrote poems on blank prescriptions. His cockiness extended only to publishing refrigerator notes. For all of his significance in the Modernist movement, he was remarkably normal

Controlled in everything except in his verse. From Paterson:
Hell’s fire. Fire. Sit your horny ass
down. What’s your game? Beat you
at your own game, Fire. Outlast you:
Poet Beats Fire at Its Own Game! The bottle!
the bottle! the bottle! the bottle! I
give you the bottle! What’s burning
now, Fire?
And while his unfaithfulness to his wife was a definite minus, you have to respect the guy for letting out all this energy through overwhelming poetry, all while delivering those babies. 

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