Friday, April 20, 2007

middle night musings

I was ego-surfing in the wee hours of the night, googling "rae stabosz" to see my name in print all over the Internet. I find it fascinating to run across pieces I have written with such passion and have totally and completely forgotten about.

I found some poems of mine from my rec.arts.poems days that I'd forgotten, and discovered a gratifying discussion from August 2006 of one of my poems, with a reference (a writer's dream) to 1990 being "the year of Rae on r.a.p"

Poetically, this one is kind of mundane but I laughed when I came across it again. This is as close as I've come to trying to justify my embarrassing preference of genre fiction over good literature.

I never can finish a non-fiction book

I don't read good fiction;
I don't want to linger over language
when romance and plot propel me to conclusion;
quick reads are my forte
in the Novel

Ah but the slow rich colors
of non-fiction!
(and there is only one category
of the form)
Every thread stitched carefully to
blend brocade, linen and trim
to royal weighty glide of cloth;
Theology is the dress of queens
and the empress's new clothes;
I finger each square inch of cloth
but will never close the final hook

I never can finish a non-fiction book.

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