Barrett Gordon is a great writer. He wrote an essay review for Celery Flute issue 3. As I reread that issue in preparation for issue 4 (or 2:1), I find a good image for how i'm feeling (beyond stupid and selfish):
3 picture-boxes are spread across a screen: "in each, 1 or both of 2 characters: a man (Pearson) and a woman (unknown). The middle picture is the triptych's denominator, showing the two at each other's limbs, pulling in or pushing out from each other, as regular as breath, and, in that same way that, rightly, dependence intoxicates the 2[folks]-in-1[agreement]. In the left-hand picture, he was alone; it looked like the impossible solace of a half-emptied heart's echo chamber, playing everything back; on the right, she went through the same bag, vice versa."
echo (Patchen) -- echo (Pearson) -- echo (Brotzman) -- echo (unknown)
thanks Barrett--
as the fool to Lear:
"They'll have me whipped for speaking true, thou'lt have me whipped for lying; and sometimes I am whipped for holding my peace. I had rather be any kind of thing than a fool; and yet I would not be thee, nuncle"
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