I am grounded in Poe. Everything is elevated – out of the gutter – from now on. Get ready for a new life.
I found a John Wilson in Scotland who is antiquarian. He collected everything in his town, and, it is all archived! I am blessed! My poetic grail cup runneth over. The phrase…”No chicken wire for you!” is a poetic device that takes the writer out of THE BOX! I was reminded of the fish weir that caught the salmon who swallowed a ring. This is the chicken wire that holds the hen that lays the eggs. Casey and I are Lost Thought Antiquarians. We grieve over information that we caught in the weir – but it got away! Who cares? Robert Graves, the Master Antiquarian! Casey bid me to read the White Goddess. He had taught a course on TWG at the UofO.
Here’s the story of the Gleeman, Irish Circuit Poets that roamed from place to place. The Irish Milesians would put down their spades and rakes, and go…
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