John Latta
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lattaj.bsky.social
John Latta
@lattaj.bsky.social
Poet, birder. Used to bloviate at Isola di Rifiuti.
Stray Kenneth Cox, on Hugh MacDiarmid: “He wrote as might an angel fallen among men, appalled by their condition and managing one or two of their languages with an uncommon but inexpert power.” Which reminded me of Ross Macdonald’s encomium for Raymond Chandler (“He wrote like a slumming angel, 1/3
February 6, 2026 at 9:13 PM
Rereading Kenneth Cox’s _The Art of Language: Selected Essays_, (Flood Editions, 2016), edited with an introduction by Jenny Penberthy, with an afterword by August Kleinzahler. Both Penberthy and Kleinzahler include wonderful snatches of Cox’s letters. Would love to see an edition of such.
February 6, 2026 at 8:15 PM
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“Why Should There Not Exist a World Composed of Invisible, Odd, Fantastic, Embryonic Beings?” by Odilon Redon
February 6, 2026 at 3:05 PM
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Sundial / limestone / Egypt, 19th dynasty, 13th century B.C.
February 6, 2026 at 9:27 AM
1/ Gertrude Stein (b. 3 February 1874), out of the _Tender Buttons_ (1914) piece, “A Substance in a Cushion”:

“What is the use of a violent kind of delightfulness if there is no pleasure in not getting tired of it.”

Out of Stein’s _How to Write_ (1931):

“I return to sentences as a refreshment.”
February 3, 2026 at 1:38 PM
Of James Joyce (b. 2 February 1882). Javier Marías reports in _Written Lives_ (2006), translated by Margaret Jull Costa, how Joyce once said he “longed to copulate with a soul.”

And of the eventual _Finnegans Wake_ (1939), Samuel Beckett writes in _Our Exagmination Round His Factification for
February 2, 2026 at 4:50 PM
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“A garland to fend off the dizzies.” Dreaming of (not so distant) spring with this poem by Sylvia Legris.
February 2, 2026 at 2:56 AM
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Gustaf Sobin,
from “Volutes”
February 2, 2026 at 9:52 AM
Gustaf Sobin talking about exile in an interview with Tedi López Mills in _Uncollected Poems_ (Shearsman Books, 2025). I suspect most writers sense (or readily seek) a kind of exile within—disaffected, fugacious, internalized—and welcome the way unbelonging can work to wry the eye, queer the ear.
February 2, 2026 at 1:06 AM
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the only truth is face to face, the poem whose words become your mouth,
and dying in black and white, we fight for what we love, not are

- Frank O’Hara, “Ode: Salute to the French Negro Poets”
January 31, 2026 at 4:34 PM
Randomly traveling (at my desk at work). Two drawings out of _Dessins sans limite_, catalog for an exhibit currently at the Grand Palais in Paris, through 15 March 2026.

Henri Michaux, “Peinture à l’encre de Chine,” c. 1950

Antoni Tàpies, “Sans titre,” 1984
January 29, 2026 at 3:49 PM
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Cid Corman
January 29, 2026 at 1:03 AM
A sweet ponderable out of László Krasznahorkai’s short piece “Universal Theseus”—in _The World Goes On_ (2017):

“Predictably—it, the intellect, cannot thrive, because its attention can never reach beyond itself, and, as attention-paying subject, 1/2
January 28, 2026 at 10:49 PM
Reading of Charles Ives, who “had a habit of labeling people ‘Professor’ he didn’t like.” Who, after “having to do counterpoint exercises and write canon” for the exigent “thoroughbred academic” Horatio Parker at Yale, “came to regard Fugue as ‘an exercise on paper, rather than on the mountains.’”
January 27, 2026 at 4:23 PM
Virginia Woolf (b. 25 January 1882), out of Orlando: A Biography (1928):

“Green in nature is one thing, green in literature another. Nature and letters seem to have a natural antipathy; bring them together and they tear each other to pieces.”
January 26, 2026 at 1:21 AM
Read R. G. Vliet’s novel Solitudes (1977). And noted a recurring complaint against the falsifying wordedness of the world:
January 25, 2026 at 9:55 PM
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Morton Feldman, in this his centenary year.
January 24, 2026 at 8:37 AM
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William Blake
January 24, 2026 at 10:05 AM
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Ralph Eugene Meatyard / Guy Davenport, 1965
January 24, 2026 at 3:01 PM
Louis Zukofsky (b. 23 January 1904), out of _“A”_ (1978), that lovely mysterium:

You are not to throw out your music
Grafted to the adequate,
Seen as the heart’s beat for more hearing
Nothing stronger to displace it
The certainty which a third when revery
turns to talk must see.
January 23, 2026 at 4:49 PM
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“I do not know how to rid the world of evil, or whether one is simply supposed to endure it. But you are there and are having an effect, and the poems have an effect of their own and help to protect you—that is the answer and a counterbalance in this world.”

— Ingeborg Bachmann to Paul Celan, 1958
January 18, 2026 at 4:50 PM
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Dorothea Lange / Boots, Hides, Watering Can, Southwestern Utah, 1953
January 18, 2026 at 2:51 PM
Morning’s tiny snippet. Susan Howe, out of “Thorow” (1990): the political / ecological urgency heard now in that “Only step // as surveyor of the Wood / only Step.”
January 18, 2026 at 2:28 PM
1/ Sleepy in the late day shine of sun off snow. Considering old notes, mostly Julien Gracq. Out of _Reading Writing_: “What we want is literature that moves, seized at the very moment it still seems to be moving, just as we prefer a sketch by Corot or Delacroix to their finished paintings.
January 17, 2026 at 10:50 PM
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Man: the air that he inhales one day inhales him; the earth takes the remainders.

-René Char
(tr. Gustaf Sobin)
January 15, 2026 at 6:28 AM