excuse me while I write about my own poem. sometime soon after my father died, I wrote out some of my feelings. just to let off pressure. I didn't want to use the occasion of my father's death, yet it was powerfully present. yesterday I found the text, and felt enough distance. and that distance allowed me to cut away what I will call the chaff. extra words, extra emotions even. that's what the process felt like, judge the results for yourelf. I've been learning this lately, approaching the text as a sculptural entity. I know that a phrase like 'sculptural entity' sounds like hoohah but I got to go that way. a poem has its place in space, say. we know structural weaknesses exist, words that don't hold. one can cut away what doesn't support, what interferes or hides. such thinking, poem as sculpture, was present in my method of reading the piece that I wrote (which wasn't written as a piece, but as a peace). and I had the courage to say less than I had to say. playing with flarf, and messing with texts from other writers, has been a useful lesson. I feel I can now approach my own works better, make more substantial (yet positive) changes. I mean, I have been thinking about this.