an awful loss. self-inflicted, again, another writer too smart to not do such a thing... an ode to the man, the writer, the teacher.
"Foster Wallace"
by Brad Lockwood
He’s a very prolific author of undeniable
lexicon a scribe unemcumbered by punc-
tuation of average infinite context a writer
chaotic frenetic sporadic diatribes of life and
highly prolific hideous authors’ medals and awards and1
As if we haven’t waited long enough waiting
standing in line like authors2authors like a
Hewlett Packard inkjet on continuous feed
paper falls like his thoughts flow broom an
estuary of babble2
My head hurts, heart too, knees more so
like this 78lbs girl beside me
sliding a picturesque landscape postcard of
a rural rocky path down down pages flashing
lobster eyes lower still3
Some literate dork behind us keeps saying
we’re here to see Clay Aiken to guys
then the truth to women
We’re all sick of it and him but glad there’s
sound to ease the stillness4
1 What is unknown
2 Biblical reference noted
3 How low we may never know
4 You can relate.
Monday, September 15, 2008
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