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Lear: And my poor fool is hanged. No, no life? Why should a dog, a horse, a rat have life, And thou no breath at all? O, thou wilt come no more, never, never, never. Pray you, undo this button. Thank you, sir. O, O, O, O.
2 comments:
You're mean! (ha)
FYI, in Sept. of last year SH came to my campus & I wrote a little about it here: http://beingandwriting.blogspot.com/2007/09/guess-who.html
Hi Kate, yes, I suppose there's a little of that. Impossible for me to read crit by Pound, Carruth and Hamill himself during my formative years and not let a little of that attitude and tongue into my own prose.
I really admire Sam and the bulk of his work -- must have almost everything he's ever written. Back in grad school, I used to write him letters and ask for input on my poetry and anything else I could think of to ask him. We wrote back and forth for about two years before I left school. Still have the letters obviously.
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