In these times, is a throughly pleasant sounding poem all fluff, lace, and an overstuffed chair?
Or is it a mirror to the poet's sound-scape & the audience's ear and, therefore, fair game.
How pleasant is grit?
Although very conversant with grains, I must admit I am no fan of grits. And I don't believe
deserts (breakfast ones included) are any more pleasant that farro soup with onions, garlic, tomatoes, garbanzo beans, fresh basil, pepper, grated hard cheese, and a lacing of olive oil. I admit, that was this morning's breakfast. Leftovers -- a true and pleasant tasting word.
Showing posts with label grits and poetry. Show all posts
Showing posts with label grits and poetry. Show all posts
Monday, March 19, 2012
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