What A Writer by Charles Bukowski
what i liked about e.e. cummings was that he cut away from the holiness of the word and with charm and gamble gave us lines that sliced through the dung.
how it was needed! how we were withering away in the old tired manner.
of course, then came all the e.e. cummings copyists. they copied him then as the others had copied Keats, Shelly, Swinburne, Byron, et al.
but there was only one e.e. cummings. of course.
one sun.
one moon.
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