i think brandon brown's "memoirs of my nervous illness" is genius.
i'm in love with that book.
i mean... i don't think i know exactly what it means when people say something is "authentic" poetically... or... rather, i think it is problematic to say such things... but i am going to say that this book that brandon brown wrote struck the authentic cord or plucked the authentic chord in me as a poet and this is very exciting to me because i am not struck nor plucked very easily.
i think because of many things, but i will try to make it more specific and say it is the way of his language.
okay, so that wasn't all that specific and here i'll just blurt things out and maybe later try to make more cohesive:
language => sincerity => investigation =>questioning sincerity=>language =| ENVIRONMENT causing ILLNESS
ILLNESS CREATING ENVIRONMENT
which is a question i can't answer for anyone but myself...
i blame architecture and paint color for my insanity.
all of this to say i think "memoirs of my nervous illness" is just a phenomenal work and i'm so very glad i got to be there to hear it last night and also so very glad that brandon wrote it. or someone who is somehow brandon wrote it.
o, and thank you jack for replying to the post i deleted because you replied so quickly and so well and i got my answers and all because of you, jack!