check out the meatrix, a spoof obviously, but one that is good to see.
a month or so ago when i was in dallas, chris murray asked me a question in passing. her question was why i never write about how being vegetarian connects to my life as a poet, and her question has been slowly bouncing around my head. when she asked it, i remember thinking the answer was obvious. poets defend life. neruda talks about this in his essays. rukeyser mentions this in the life of poetry. i have just extended their thoughts a step. after all, life in any form is delicate. i don't mean to suggest that it does not rebound (hopefully it will from the reckless destruction we've caused on the planet) or that harsh actions do not happen with lifeforms; rather, i'm just stating my awe at the existence of life in the first place. the universe does not seem set up for thinking apes or mockingbirds or whales or anything besides rock and gas, but here we are spinning rapidly on this planet not even thinking about holding on, just doing it. i repeat: the job of the poet is to defend life. that can be in the form of defending life literally (like neruda himself, cardenal, akhmatova, etc. . .), in the form of defending the individuality of the modern person (a task i see at the heart of the language school), in the form of nature writing (just look at gary synder), or in many other forms. for me, the idea drifts into my personal ethics and leaves me wondering if i could destroy precious objects intentionally over and over and not think of myself as a killer. i do enough damage to the planet otherwise, so i'm trying to minimize my impact at least on part of it (also the part of it i feel most connected to.)
a month or so ago when i was in dallas, chris murray asked me a question in passing. her question was why i never write about how being vegetarian connects to my life as a poet, and her question has been slowly bouncing around my head. when she asked it, i remember thinking the answer was obvious. poets defend life. neruda talks about this in his essays. rukeyser mentions this in the life of poetry. i have just extended their thoughts a step. after all, life in any form is delicate. i don't mean to suggest that it does not rebound (hopefully it will from the reckless destruction we've caused on the planet) or that harsh actions do not happen with lifeforms; rather, i'm just stating my awe at the existence of life in the first place. the universe does not seem set up for thinking apes or mockingbirds or whales or anything besides rock and gas, but here we are spinning rapidly on this planet not even thinking about holding on, just doing it. i repeat: the job of the poet is to defend life. that can be in the form of defending life literally (like neruda himself, cardenal, akhmatova, etc. . .), in the form of defending the individuality of the modern person (a task i see at the heart of the language school), in the form of nature writing (just look at gary synder), or in many other forms. for me, the idea drifts into my personal ethics and leaves me wondering if i could destroy precious objects intentionally over and over and not think of myself as a killer. i do enough damage to the planet otherwise, so i'm trying to minimize my impact at least on part of it (also the part of it i feel most connected to.)
Comments