I’m not too good at networking at kissing the asses of administrators or of established poets & having to swallow their subsidized verse or self-seeking banter I’m not too keen to read my work out in public to pimply faced nobs or drunken yobs in uni pubs or clubs I’m not too fussed about workshopping my stuff in small groups to poets who advocate this school or that who agonize over each word each syllable who squeeze out every last pimple of significance from their work * I like the idea that editors vociferously hate my shit—that it’s too weird that it’s off the planet that it’s too populist, too full of profanity I like the idea that my work will be considered by the Literature Board as being ‘devoid of any literary merit’, that it is not being read by academics or anthologised by multinational book publishers I like the idea I’m not being paid for this poem because if you bought it & you didn’t like it I wouldn’t have to tell you to GO FUCK YOURSELF!
—George Anderson http://georgedanderson.blogspot.ca/
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