Been reading My Life, Lyn Hejinian's collection of prose poems, which can be considered autobiographical in nature. The gist of it that I so far have gathered is the work is a fragmentary illustration of herself and her personal history interspliced wtih sudden commentary and tangential trains of thought. The work is experimental and was considered avant-garde in its time. The work is dense and rich and it takes a while to read, even though it is only a hundred or so pages. It is seperated into 39 parts i think, presumably to miiror the age she was when she wrote to poem. I dont understand fully what it is im reading but I love it.
Thats how its been for me for a while. Many poems I read I may read only for the sake of its inexplicableness and puzzling quality. Im drawn to what is immediately weird and off-putting, but this doesnt mean I fully appreciated the work. It seems that when I truly understand a poets design it is at that time the i soon forget his/her poetry and move on to something new.