From George Kalamaras, "Deceiving the Great Ear of Poetry: Notes toward a Formal Lecture on Hound Dog Poetics":

“for thirty years mere mist mere haze
mist haze sixty years eat Buddha shit die”
—Ikkyu, Crazy Cloud

A syllabic line of ten steady beats
Rhythm of a hound dog’s defecation 
Hound dog’s deception, hound dog’s deception


“[As a poet I] hold the most archaic values on earth … the fertility of the soil, the magic of animals, the power-vision in solitude, the terrifying initiation and rebirth, the love and ecstasy of the dance, the common work of the tribe.”
—Gary Snyder, The Real Work: Interviews & Talks 1964–1979

The hound dog universe is a description of what we might call “the great ear of poetry.” Hound-dog beautiful. Hound dog beautiful. Hound-dog my ear. Hound-dog my heart.


“the ordinary of his commonplace”
—Wallace Stevens, “Prologues to What Is Possible”

Beautiful little hound rounding out my blood.
Perhaps you swallowed a star. Perhaps the star ate you. 


“feel for
a place through which I
can wake myself towards you”
—Paul Celan

Come, follow the scented scent of the soil, the hound dogs bay, their tails lifted, swaying in the wind. Feel for the tiniest pleasure moans. The tiniest hookworm of desire. Of deceit. Feel for a place through which we can wake ourselves, up, through you.

[via web conjunctions]

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