Cutter mentioned that feng shui "bullshit." it's not bullshit, Cutter. I hung a windchime outside my house and the birds stopped colliding with the window.

keeping with your architecture analogy, Ted, but moving in a slightly different direction: of the Young poems I've read, he seems to have a fascination with building poems of local materials and synthesizing them with the local landscape. His diurnal, cliche, local TV commercial talkiness produces the predictable usonian mistakes. the usonian architecture produced some handsome walls from the local slate and timber but the rooms themselves are dreary chambers. Young likewises uses lots of local materials to even less success. he collection of talky phrases produces, not cavernous rooms of stanzas, instead little, truncated, useless hallways going nowhere except into themselves.

I'm almost as unthrilled with the excerpts posted from Black Maria,Young's poetic exercise in talkiness of film noir.

four hundred bucks, you say? per poem? i love Slate. where else can you trade in a short stack of crappy poems and walk away with a mortgage payment?