In Ron Silliman's 1,054 page poem The Alphabet, made up mostly of collaged sentences, found and lost language, jumbled musings (sincere and insincere), and other endless (and often exciting) non-lyrical techniques, apparently (on page 348) he once wrote the lines:
if only Eliot WeinbergerSo, I guess Carl Andre threw his wife out the window or something. I'll gladly go on and on about this in the comment section if you ask me to, but for now I know I don't have to explain to anyone who knows what a poem is why we don't quite have enough evidence to send in the SWAT team... yet!
had married Carl Andre
How do you say “asshole” in Dutch?
The lines collaged previous to these 3 are:
perch baked in foilClearly, this is proof that Ron Silliman wants to cook Eliot Weinberger like a fish!
with butter, tomatoes, squash -
and caraway seeds!
Later, Kent whines about some long forgotten essay in which Silliman, decades ago, called him a "cockroach". Because clearly, this is proof enough of his character to insinuate conspiracy to murder.
Kent Johnson is the Glenn Beck of poetry. Why this guy has any credibility in poetry criticism is one poetry's best kept secrets.
What world is Johnson living in where we're supposed to gasp that Silliman dared call him a cockroach (in some publication read by the tens no doubt), but ignore his own obsessive creepy devotion to "exposing" the dastardly conspiracies of software-engineer-by-day/poet-by-night Ron Silliman?
"i'm not saying Ron Silliman wants to throw Eliot Weinberger out a window, i'm just asking questions"