These poems may not seem like they are informed or influenced
by Japanese aesthetics.
But actually, they are, in my mind, anyway, very much.
I am very influenced by Japanese aesthetics and poetics.
The Japanese language is vocabulary
poor, which means that there's actually--
that it's very rich in words with multiple meanings,
sounds with multiple meanings.
And so the Japanese use that lavishly,
wonderfully, especially since their poetry is so economical.
OK, I'm sort of putting my professor hat on.
I'll stop.
But what's particularly interesting for me,
especially with poems that have to do
with science in a language that, for me, is totally exotic--
the language of science is totally exotic--
is to find words where [SNAP] it just [SNAP]
breaks open and can move in different directions.
So, you know, collect, collect myself as one collects themself
to do something.
So that that's kind of what I'm--
one thing I'm up to here.
"The Dream of Knife, Fork, and Spoon."
"I can't recall where to set the knife and spoon.
I can't recall which side to place the napkin,
or which bread plate belongs to me,
or how to engage in benign chatter.
I can't recall, when more than one fork, which to use first,
or what to make of a bowl of water.
I can't see the place cards or recall any names.
The humiliation is impressive, the scorn.
No matter how much my brain revises the dinner
to see if the host was a family member,
I can't recall which dish ran away with which spoon."