"Well, to tell you the truth, I am lying again. I have never played such childish literary games. But I intend to do so as soon as I can."

So writes Heriberto Yepez on his blog.
He speaks of the lies of fiction, strategy, and the problem of Modernism and translation. Take a look.

I'm reminded of a quote by Louise Gluck in the preface to Richard Siken's book Crush, "We live in a period of great polarities: in art, in public policy, in morality. In poetry, art seems, at one extreme, rhymed good manners, and at the other, chaos. The great task has been to infuse clarity with the passionate ferment of the inchoate, the chaotic." How do I get that on a coffee cup to bring to meetings? If you've not read Siken, you have a wonderful discovery ahead of you.

I've been wondering lately, are we becoming less willing to engage the nameless and the murky? Are we becoming dependent upon categorization and resolution?

I finally got my hands on Huidobro and am taking the parachute ride (wondering about Dickey's drop from an airplane). This is a photo of Huidobro by Hans Arp. The photo of James Dickey is him playing the sheriff in Deliverance.