I re-read Descripción de la mentira, by the great Antonio Gamoneda. Such magnificent rhetoric and rhythm. Also reading Cobalto, by Esther Zarraluki. I'll tell you about it soon.

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A reader objects to my "unfortunate" remark on Merwin. To say Merwin is not a poet is obviously hyperbole. Look at this poem to see what I mean. The rhymes and flaccid language are downright embarrassing, as should become abundantly clear. You can also check out my Rod McKuen/Merwin quiz of a few months back. A tone of solemn high-seriousness does not make you a poet. It is a shtick as bad as any other.