Sendak’s voice leads children through the darkest thickets of their imagination, telling them where to take the right turn (especially when the right turn is the wrong one) to have a riotous adventure.
I’m not into concrete poetry for the same reasons that Donald Barthelme wasn’t into conceptual art: it seems too easy, and once you “get” it, you don’t need it anymore. But it’s a lot easier to dismiss genres than individual artists. My exception to the rule is Robert Zend.
After the stir over the release of Barack Obama’s letter on “The Wasteland” to his college girlfriend, the timing seemed right to dig into the epistolary archives of other contemporary political figures.