…nothing compared to the work of Paul Neil Milne Johnstone…
The dead swans lay in the stagnant pool.
They lay. They rotted. They turned
Around occasionally…
I really liked the poem quoted in the first post, really really liked the drawings linked to further down, and now want to know all about Mina Loy. Thanks, OP!
Damn! You beat me to this one. I actually had to check the thread title twice because I originally thought it was posted by either Eve or Otto and it didn’t really sound like either one of them…
booklyn, did you post that poem as an example of something crappy? Because I actually really like it, despite the blank-verse style that I think is often lazy.
(It also set off a bout of déjà vu.)
better than a bout with vu ja de… 
Total off-topic nitpick - coastal shelves are shallow, true, but they do deepen going away from shore, generally with a slope of a few degrees or less.
We now return you to your rant-turned-discussion of Modernist poetry.
It makes more sense if you realize that this bit,
is presenting death, while the previous part about the newborn kittens was an impression of life. Blue bottles, in this case, are a kind of blow-fly. Yet, even though this is an image of death, the death feeds (epicurian: enjoyment of food and drink) the flies, enabling them to live. She’s trying to capture the essence of that personal realization of the connection between life and death in her poem.
Not that it’s particularly deep, but it’s not bad in my opinion.
That is good. Not sure if one should post the poem in its entirety for copyright reasons (unless you’re Peter, from the name “booklyn” and booklyn.org?) but I am glad you did, as, well, that’s a good poem. I think.
Maybe. But that doesn’t mean the OP has a clue.
Say what you will about Mina Loy, she was fabulous in Test Pilot.
Rises from the subconscious
Impression of small animal carcass
And she obviously drives my route to work.
Yeah. She was just great with Walter Powell and their dog, Aflac.
OK fellas (and those of similar persuasion), who got a mental image of Nora Charles jilling off while eating bon bons in a satin nightgown? You liked it. You know you liked it.
She’s not even an Ewan McTeagle.
May I ask what you like about it? Does it make a certain sense to you? Does it bring up emotions?
Yes, it makes sense to me. Does it bring up emotions? Eh, a little. I don’t generally read poetry for emotional effect though anyway. I particularly liked the last stanza’s imagery. It made me smile - not in a happy way, I mean I’m not happy for the women to have ludicruous little halos of which they are sublimely unaware- but out of an unconscious sense of recognition and pleasure at the way in which the scene is described.
I like the rhythm of the poem. I have always enjoyed a judicious use of repetition, as in the first lines of the first two stanzas. I like the way the first two stanzas mirror each other and then the third stanza breaks away from the abstract and dreamy arena of the subconscious to the concrete world. Is the author including herself in the phrase “each woman-of-the-people”? or is she an observer coming from her subconscious musing? It’s hard for me to say.
I don’t want to really analyze any more as I think that with the blunt tools of a very vague grasp on literary criticism left over from twelve years ago at school I’m more likely to be confusing than to shed any light on the peculiarly personal taste that leads me to enjoy the poem.
I’m still grateful for the thread though - I put a biography of Mina Loy and a copy of a book of her poetry in my amazon cart for when I have some spending cash. I’m looking forward to reading more of her. And I got to tell to my mother about her, which was exciting as my mother loves the Modernist literary period and will be interested in finding out more about her too.
Tanks SAVANNAH- Am not Peter, but I did publish the poem. Peter is brilliant, I am but a publisher who believes in his words. Because of that, ( and because the poem is so fkn good I put the whole thing up here.
It’s funny, all I read was horseshit.
Understanding or appreciating this type of poetry requires a degree of literary sophistication. It takes some effort but most people can move from “horse shit” to appreciation in a fairly short period of time.
Then I guess I better get that “literary sophistication” then. There’s tons of teenage poetry out there going unappreciated!
Of course you don’t have to actually like the poetry or anything, but it’s a shame you can’t understand or won’t acknowledge the difference between the poem in the OP and teenage angst drivel.
So were you looking for a genuine answer from me, or just something to riff some more snark off? Because, you know, I coulda had another cup of coffee before work in the time it took to give you an honest answer.
And I take my coffee seriously!