Friday, July 18, 2008

My core texts, as of now

I hope I'm never clutching for something to read in the debris of a wrecked ship, en route to a desert island, but now I know which books and records I would take on a weekend-long underground arts Monastic Retreat (see following post) - at least when I leave myself about fifteen minutes to make my picks before I leave for work:

* Buraky

and among the writers ...

These are the fragments I have shored against my ruin, to ragpick a phrase from a St. Louis poet whose birthplace is now a pawn shop.

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