tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5423009749047112824.post8834409397850962614..comments2023-10-31T04:02:32.226-05:00Comments on thursday poets title: Santa at Smit'sUnknownnoreply@blogger.comBlogger1125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5423009749047112824.post-72597301567167858642007-03-09T13:11:00.000-05:002007-03-09T13:11:00.000-05:00Congratulations to the head Bloggo for organizing ...Congratulations to the head Bloggo for organizing this wonderful, however incipient it might be, site.<BR/><BR/>I am still waiting for the great field trip, when all of us Thursday nite’s poets see each other in our best and worst traveling models—planes, trains, and automobiles.<BR/><BR/> That venture will be the source of much poesy—I do not know how much of it great—but it will be like being at camp for a day and that is enough poesy in itself.<BR/><BR/>Those in the Capital Region who would like to see some first-rate poets read first-rate poetry and first-rate readers and first-rate critics respond in a first-rate style, you might like to search our little coterie out. Notice all the first-rates? No extra charge.<BR/><BR/>Reading Baudelaire this morning from his Flowers of Evil I was taken with the first line of the poem “Spleen ” J’ai plus de souvenirs que si j’avais mille ans.” “I have more memories than if I’d lived a thousand years.” <BR/><BR/>When I read that, I thought: I can say the same about feelings.<BR/><BR/>Peace and love,<BR/>DennisDennis Sullivanhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/07327292687153315836noreply@blogger.com