any question. I'll answer. Or try to.
*Edit: I originally meant questions about me, but the oracular angle is fun, too... ;) *
About Me
- Paul
- Paul Guest is the author of four volumes of poetry and a memoir. His debut, The Resurrection of the Body and the Ruin of the World, was awarded the 2002 New Issues Poetry Prize. His second collection, Notes for My Body Double, was awarded the 2006 Prairie Schooner Book Prize. His third collection, My Index of Slightly Horrifying Knowledge, was published by Ecco Press/HarperCollins in 2008. His fourth collection, Because Everything Is Terrible, was published by Diode Editions. His poems have appeared in Harper's, The Paris Review, Poetry, Tin House, The Kenyon Review, and elsewhere. His memoir, One More Theory About Happiness, was published by Ecco in May 2010 and selected for the Barnes & Noble Discover Great New Writers Program. The recipient of a 2011 Guggenheim Fellowship and a 2007 Whiting Writers' Award, Guest lives in Charlottesville, Virginia.
53 comments:
Are you the magic 8-ball?
Ask again later.
Will I ever settle down?
When you least expect it. But not all of you will, no, not all.
Will the 21st century pick up where the 19th left off and learn from the 20th century's mistakes?
Good money says, No.
Is it better to be Just, or Merciful?
Merciful.
Is there a cure for chronic, low-grade wistfulness?
There is, but would you really want to be cured?
Are you the Oracle at Delphi?
Where is love?
Why am I here?
Will I ever be happy?
Ready? Set? GO!!
C.Dale, No. Not even the Oracle at Delaware.
Laurel, Umm..... ;)
How about the Oracle at Arkadelphia?
Possibly!
When are you going to come visit me in California?
-Victoria
Hey, when am I invited? ;)
What will happen to us when we die?
George Burns greets us. No, wait--
Um? All I get is um?
Um....
I'm disappointed.
You said any question.
You said you'd at least try.
Here. I'll answer my own questions. It'll be very ruby slipperish---click-click-click:
Where is love? Here. Right here. Right now.
Why am I here? BecausebecausebecausebecauseBECAUSE
Will I ever be happy? Yes. Absolutely.
Now, Paul, here's a new question for you, one I spent my childhood asking while trapped in the back fo a skyblue station wagon:
Are we there yet?
We're never there yet. Arriving is ever.
(n)ever
Are you my angel?
Just like you're the wind beneath my wings.
Let's say you were a bee, and I was a bee, and let's say you were a gay bee -- though I'm not necessarily saying I would be a gay bee, or that you ARE a gay bee, but just pretending you were -- would you find me attractive?
Well, as long as we're both bees, sure, why not?
Which is better for getting rid of the scabies-- ontology or epistemology? Or some kind of butter-based cream?
A butter-based ontology.
The letter M, the letter C, or the letter T?
M.
When is the best time for viewing the Loch Ness Monster?
The night time is the right time.
Shelley or Keats?
Keats.
Shall we?
Sure.
If you could ask anyone (deceased or living) a question; to whom would the question be addressed to
and what would the question be?
Does she love me?
How many roads must a man walk down?
Which journal will break the poem publication slump I'm currently in?
Who are your favorite 3 dead poets? Favorite 3 living poets? Least favorite poem you've ever read? Do you read much fiction? How old were you when you wrote your first poem? At what age did you realize you were a poet? If you weren't a poet, what would you be?
-LBehrendt
Nick, I think it'd be Alfred Hitchcock. And mostly I'd just listen.
Steven, She does. 99 roads. Mid-American Review.
LBehrendt, fave 3 dead poets: Donne, Berryman, James Wright. Fave living poets: Bob Hicok, Ashbery, Rodney Jones. I read very little fiction. I was 17 when I wrote my first poem. Not sure about the age of realization but after 17. If I wasn't a poet, I'd probably make movies.
Save me from myself?
Old Sincerity? Or, New?
Red? Or, blue?
Spring? Or, fall?
One? Or, two?
And: Can poetry matter?
Gina, why not you?
Laurel:
Old.
Blue.
Spring.
Two.
Poetry already does matter. Here we are, yes?
It's probable, Rev, that there is an articulate voice out there. Somewhere.
You didn't ask me, but:
my impression of Tzvetan Todorov's book Hope and Memory and a cursory look, so far, at Raymond Williams' Resources of Hope indicate there are alternatives and that articulate people have begun to imagine and give voice to them. You may not agree with what they suggest, but at least it's a start in a different direction.
And who knows, maybe you are the voice of such a change of vector as you desire?
It's up to each of us, caught as we are between prophecies of doom and Peter Pan Peanut Butter jingles, to resist fear and
apathy--those breeding grounds for the hard Right and its ruthless politics.(Loose paraphrase of Williams.)
No easy task.
I hope it's not too late.
Will I ever be able to forget?
R.
I think he forgot to answer your question.
Rebecca, Maybe not.
Paul - Why do I have an attraction to unavailable men? Why are you the only poet that I think is worth reading?
Alexis, don't you always want what you can't have? And as for your other question, what can I say? ;)
Where will this Canadian poet be in a year's time?
What is at the other end of longing?
You will be in Thunder Bay.
More longing.
Thunder is to bank as peanuts are to ____?
Post a Comment