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PostPosted: Wed Nov 23, 2011 9:18 pm
by WolfLarsen
A poem by Wolf Larsen
You watch as thousands of ceiling people begin cutting your body up into dinner pieces (like the thunderstorm inside your living room)? So you write disintegrating sculptures obsessing on the page, it’s like a thousand splintering-avalanching-canneries drinking your body every second…
Each word is a hungry knife disordering the English language, each word is a spontaneous grave digger, every phrase is a cemetery waiting for my readers
Every moment is dread, every white molecule is exhaustion and regret - the shrieking canneries alive under a crashing galaxy fighting with the mountains and clouds, every night is a huge black lushness surrounded by incest, ignorance is a constant tidal wave poised over the small ridiculous town - every mirror is timeless despair, every day is ruin

So I begin this poem by eating the kitchen sink and drinking alarm clocks, so I begin the poem inside your convulsing memories. . . sculptures?

Copyright 2004 by Wolf Larsen


PostPosted: Tue Nov 20, 2012 1:20 am
by steffen
Hello Wolf Larsen wherever you are in our America, "land of the free and home of the brave". I've just spent the last hour reading through your stuff on this 1st page and it's growing on me. I admit that I was taken aback, even angered by the Shakespeare paraphrasing. But after reading on I put it into the context of the whole.
And I like what you write and wonder how you manage to do it. Everything you put down on paper is you and being oneself is perhaps not what one finds or expects on these pages. You're real, full of your own dark, unsettling, naked truth. Thanks for all this..

All the irony, the sarcasm, the derision, the anger, the "shocking" vocabulary, the surprisingly meaningful non sequiturs. But did I sense some tenderness between the lines of this wonderful Dutch Harbor, Alaska piece? I think I did. I've begun to take you seriously and look forward to reading more.

My time's running out. Thanks again.

P.S. Did you write this?---If so, tell me about it...

"What if I'm wrong
What if I've lied
what if I've dragged you here to my own dark night"


PostPosted: Wed Nov 21, 2012 9:41 pm
by WolfLarsen
Thank you Steffen. Your comments are very kind.

People either hate my work or they love it. There is rarely any in between. There seem to be more people who hate my work than love it.

You are definitely right when you note that I am unique. I've been to 52 countries and I've never met anybody like me. It is not easy being me. But, it hasn't been boring.