John reads his poem “Sunday After Church” from his collection Sometimes I Still Pray. He also discusses “old neighborhood” characters, blues man John Lee Hooker, and what makes a poem a poem.
I really loved this poem. My grandfather was also a plumber. Compelled me to look up images of John Lee Hooker's hands.
I'm so glad! Thank you. Those hands are pretty gnarly huh?
Yeah, but reflect how long and intensely he used that hand for fret work. Remarkable, and strikingly beautiful.
Exactly.
Dear John ,
Preserve the word .
Tell AI to do what you do so well ....that is , cioè .....bring in the personal and make a story out of a life or character of a loved one .
Preserve the word and further the beauty of a true wordsmith .
Fuck AI .......
I love that! Fuck AI! Thanks Jane.
I really loved this poem. My grandfather was also a plumber. Compelled me to look up images of John Lee Hooker's hands.
I'm so glad! Thank you. Those hands are pretty gnarly huh?
Yeah, but reflect how long and intensely he used that hand for fret work. Remarkable, and strikingly beautiful.
Exactly.
Dear John ,
Preserve the word .
Tell AI to do what you do so well ....that is , cioè .....bring in the personal and make a story out of a life or character of a loved one .
Preserve the word and further the beauty of a true wordsmith .
Fuck AI .......
I love that! Fuck AI! Thanks Jane.