Michael Gottlieb / Letters to a Middle-Aged Poet / 5
5.
What are we supposed to do now?
Do we try and hop aboard those fast-moving freights? Do we claim that we too are one of them, that we are card carrying members of their movements – we’re with them and just like them – and always have been (even before they were conceived of), or does that make us seem ridiculous? And, if we do not try and sport those ill-fitting skinny jeans and pork pie hats and (for those of us capable of sprouting same) that artfully curated facial hair – what indeed is left for us?
If we can’t be one of them, can’t carry that off, are we obliged to ask ourselves: why bother writing at all anymore?
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5.
What are we supposed to do now?
Do we try and hop aboard those fast-moving freights? Do we claim that we too are one of them, that we are card carrying members of their movements – we’re with them and just like them – and always have been (even before they were conceived of), or does that make us seem ridiculous? And, if we do not try and sport those ill-fitting skinny jeans and pork pie hats and (for those of us capable of sprouting same) that artfully curated facial hair – what indeed is left for us?
If we can’t be one of them, can’t carry that off, are we obliged to ask ourselves: why bother writing at all anymore?
posted by mark young at 9:13 AM
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