At the Visual Text reading the other night, I ran into Mary Kay, with whom I'd had that original discussion about preciousness. And I knew, secretly, that my poems were nearing what I'd consider for myself to be precious.After the reading, she said, "Your poetry has a preciousness." She called me out on it, and I humbly admitted she was right. She noted the word "tender," which I believe I'd also discussed with her that night. Tender preciousness.So, maybe deep down, I am just all about preciousness.
Maybe, maybe. Always a maybe.
I think that's sweet.Rebecca (mostly all about evil)