Cedar Sigo                                       (page 3)
Notes on Glamour and the Work of John Wieners (An Open Letter)

Robert Creeley said of Wieners in that great late poem:

                  I think of just jumping into darkness, into deep water,

  Into nothing one can ever point to as a place out there, just its shadow, a
  Beckoning echo of something, a premonition, which does not warn but invites.

I had previously used the word “allure” which I guess is more of a precedent, a symptom that begins to bleed just before glamour breaks through. To be drowning, burning...in its center to the point of not knowing, one must constantly be mixing it up. “Past the social” as we know it would be a further ideal. When asked, “You've written several poems to painters?” Wieners replied, “I found them better company.” “Than your fellow poets?” “Yes, they were always too vampyric.” I am guessing they were confused, wanting in at the root. It can never be fully explained as its courting is second nature. Many artists I have come across, gotten close to, were not aware I was a poet until they stepped into my living room. So glamour is obviously not contingent upon their knowing its source. This is sounding like a testimony, the second it is turned to transcription...

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