These Accumulations -- based in part on the idea that one's poetry is more
likely to be preserved if used as mummy wrapppings/stuffings (cf. Posidippus)
than if one depends on publications in today's entrepreneurial marketplace
-- are mounted on papier-mached
foundations of poems. Rather trivial poems at that, but who knows they
might lead the way into cyberspace, where among the billion billion
billion trillion molecules, as in the Borgian Library, a
diligent
researcher or some lucky un-deserving ne'er do well may stumble on the
other, finer poems accidentally, print them out, hang them up for biffy
paper, have the wind knock over the outhouse, and be discovered, when the
anthropological
researchers come looking for the shit -- now become more
valuable then poems as records of what the ancients ate, what climate they
endured, where they migrated from, and with the leap-frog speed of
technology, who knows: from shit they might soon be able to tell the
rhythm, rhyme and reason of ancient thought. Thus, set off by the
mummified poems, and the irresistable urge to pick over the rich detritus
of our civilization from leaf-nature to man-discarded slag -- metal and
jewels -- to convert the past to the future, garbage to treasures, shit to
scientific data along the way stations of high-metaled roads to greed,
beauty and fear, to say nothing of the record of who and what we ate,
these little Accumulations beckon for your attention.