Confused on Purpose?
As I read this manifesto my feelings towards the writer shifted left and right like a windy road on the cliff of mountain. I found myself instantly disliking him as a human because of the tone of his writing. The way he unremorsefully tore apart what I assume are great poets as if he was the supreme arbiter of all thing poetry. He reminded me of the contradiction t-shirt wearing hipster who sits on his high horse and hates everything popular only because it was popular.
After the first paragraph my views toward him took a drastic U turn. I began to see that he wasn’t coming from a place of superiority but the exact opposite. He was coming from a place of humility. He wanted to create a world in poetry where you wrote because you loved it and it was accepted solely because you wrote it by choice. He saw “classical” poetry as being to constraining with its rules and definition of what was good poetry. The norms of “classical” poetry separated the poet from the reader. What good is it to write about lofty ideas in magnificent language if those ideas are not tangible to your reader? You might as well write in a different language like French or Italian that sounds beautiful no matter how vile the words you utter are.
As soon as I began to like him I quickly found myself lost stranded on the side of the road with no help in sight. It seemed to me like the further I read the more he began to contradict what he previously wrote. His views went from leaving behind the lofty ideas of current poetry to adopt a more conversation like experience between the poet, his poetry and the reader. Then he went back and said the exact opposite. I found it a bit confusing. Maybe I wasn’t able to understand the message he was trying to put across. Then I thought maybe it’s not supposed to make sense. Just maybe I was having a conversation with that hipster through his poetry and when I asked him why he hated everything popular he couldn’t really give me a good answer.