Wednesday, March 30, 2005


What I took in my hand
grew in weight. You must
understand it
was not obscene.

Night comes. We sleep.
Then if you know what
say it.
Don't pretend.

Guises are
what enemies wear. You
and I live
in a prayer.

Helpless. Helpless,
should I speak.
Would you.
What do you think of me.

No woman ever was,
was wiser
than you. None is
more true.

But fate, love, fate
scares me. What
I took in my hand
grows in weight.

Robert Creeley (1926-2005)

Saturday, March 19, 2005

Edward Gorey’s cover for Nineteenth Century German Tales edited by Angel Flores.

Thursday, March 10, 2005


Who is Phillip Levine and why is he saying such awful things about me?

This post was found on one of the message boards at Web del Sol:

“Posted by Phillip Levine on Tuesday, 1 March 2005, at 5:30 p.m.

Warning! Eratio Postmodern Poetry by St. Thomasino - some of the worst poetry published on the web. Except for certain poets like Eldon and Foley, the work in Eratio Postmodern Poetry is uneven and often even childish. Some of it appears straight out of a Klingon dictionary while other parts are Hallmark-esque in nature. Good for a laugh, but not to be taken seriously.


ps: don't criticize the editor or he'll make you a feature of his bizarre hate blog.”

St. Thomasino responds:

No, this is not THE Philip Levine, the highly regarded American poet. (If it was I would die of embarrassment.) No, this jerk has two l’s in his name. And curiously enough, this jerk teaches poetry in a poetry workshop. Isn't it interesting, that somebody who teaches poetry should use such language to criticize poetry, to criticize a poetry journal, and to criticize that journal's editor? It's interesting, that this failed poet, this wanna-be poet, this real stinker, should then become the teacher of poetry, but as though to make up for his disappointment he then desires some sort of power and influence and control over those who can.

And just for the record: Sources have informed us here at the eratio blog-auxiliary that for years Michael Neff was a regular speck on the Buffalo Poetics List, and that even then he was self-appointed Wizard of Oz. (But check the archives, see for yourself. . . .) It seems Michael Neff has a “pre-existing condition.”