Eyewear began a few years ago, in summer. Here it is, 2008, with heavy English rain outside, and a cup of tea (with milk and honey) inside. Reflections on a blog, One Thousand And One in? Not many. I regret, perhaps, some of the angst, some of the complaints. I am proud to have kept my friends and family, and my new haircuts, mostly out of it - this was never meant to be personal in that sense - perhaps impersonal, in the Eliotic sense. I am glad to offer space for widely known and lesser known poets, to review and share their poems.
It's often misread - as some sort of "with a hammer" riposte to entrenched British poetic positions; it's not meant to be. It is meant to get people thinking - particularly about the ethics of poetry in all its aspects, from publishing, to editing, to reviewing - even if that means being, at times, a gadfly. I'd say there is fear in a handful of poets in the UK trying to move up in the mainstream ranks, who know that there are elements within British poetry who do not permit much opposition. It's chilling. It was like this with Pound-Eliot; it was like this in the days of Alvarez (he despised it then); it's that way now, too.
So, I try and write fairly, freely, truly - and accordingly, this unsettles people, some people, in poetry. It shouldn't. Poetry's house is in disorder when speaking openly is considered unwise. The good news? There's more innovative, original, fresh, poetry being written, in Canada, or England, or Ireland (for instance) now than anytime previously. Will I keep updating this monumental waste of time, this blog? Stay tuned.