Bleed a little, too

I happen to know the author, though, so I can say that at the time of the writing he was writing poetry as one might make observations in a journal. There was little thought given to the reader coming on it cold---Bozo Boy then wrote with no clear notion of 'audience,' but wrote to himself, or to someone already well-acquainted with his quirks. It IS successful as a 'note to myself,' or as an aid to memory: I get it---but I see now that it has lacks with regard to 'the unknown reader', as you rightly point out. Thanks for takin' a peek at it. Perry

I think a reading of the corpus, with careful attention to the dates (where those can be determined) would reveal only that I'm a freakin' poetic dabbler, who slid quickly into formal or semi-formal poetry. The large gaps in the historical record would suggest that I spend my time away from poetry by the years. Still, I see some changes in the poetry collected in 'we have achieved doggerel' and that I have now in my 'smoldering camel dung' collection. The latter works show a decided commitment to rhyme and a much tighter focus on specific limited notions. There is less marvel at mystery, and more bland acceptance of mystery, one's own ignorance, the ignorance of others, etc. The passions---never a big deal in my poetry---are even more subdued in the the later works than they are in the early works. But, candidly, I think it would be error to do that study: save your hours for poets with a coherent history, dedication to the art, some kind of aim. I muddle along, and sometimes produce a poem. These are supposed to be fun to read, one at a time, as they turn up. My primary aims as I write 'em: amuse and inform, or amuse and challenge an ancient belief; make it so that some lines will stick in memory. Perry