Tai, Flash memoir! That’s a terrific suggestion. Thank you very much. Your blog, by the way, does a huge amount in a few words — and a picture. It’s a model for short form blogging. I love visiting it. Some days it’s the perfect antitode to too much time spent writing about the law.

U-Dad — The six word memoir is a lot of fun. For my friend C’s birthday a few years ago, everyone wrote six word stories of how they met her. That Hemingway six word story — For sale: baby shoes never used — sets the standard.

Jacob, Nope. You haven’t overstayed anything. How could you? That’s a wonderful description of your microfiction project and the possibilities of this form. Thank you for that.

Emily Dickinson (our unsurpassed master of condensation) uses the word ‘transport’ that way–to layer the meaning of her subject each time she uses the word. Transport for Dickinson is everything from movement in space, in time, memory–to the idea of an altered state, a spiritual transport into another dimension. I took three journal entries, written while riding the Frankford El in Philly one summer, to see if I could use this idea–transit–disassociation–transport: three pieces that I set myself the task of writing in a leisurely paced descriptive style, but which might suggest thematic layers, each coming quickly to an end… like a change in a stream of associations, but just as quickly taking up the same idea again in a different setting. The idea being… that this might go on and on… not in the addition of new fictions, but in the reader carrying that mode of perception into the world… which is one of the things that gives us pleasure in long novels… that while we are engaged in them, we go about our lives as though it were somehow a continuum of that fictive universe.

Micro fiction seems so perfectly suited for internet reading… something one might take a few minutes to read in the morning before going off into the work-a-day world… and have it cling to you, shaping perceptions the way dreams sometimes do.

Plus, we are all saying in unison, You rock, Jacob.

A flower is the structure of a plant’s reproductive organs, its genatilia, botanical equivalents of uterus, ovary, penus, testicle–evolved to seduce insects and trick them into bringing about their reproductive union. Now a poem that emulates all of that: conjucating verbs, the sytactical rapure of noun clusters, propositional phrases seducing immoral apositives… there might be something to poetry as ‘flower’… ah, but what do we do with flowers? We spread them around caskets to mask the stench of death… and alas, those are the flowers that come to mind when I hear “flower” and “poetry” in the same breath.

Dear Caryn, I have long thought of short stories as existing on a continuum in which poetry is at one end and Russian novels are at the other — I think short stories are closer to poetry than to Russian novels (or at least I tentatively think that, because I’m not quite sure today) — and I agree with you that even shorter short stories would appear to be even closer to poetry. But my thoughts about this are in flux, partly because I haven’t yet read enough short-shorts to know what I think. That’s the subject for my NEXT blog post, and I’m looking forward to hearing what you think.

“Poetry is a flower.”

I have sitting on my desk Ron Siliman’s The Alphabet: a 1053 page poem… or perhaps, 24 linked poems?

Some flower!

I know you didn’t intend that, but I can’t think of a single poet I know who wouldn’t find it somewhat insulting (or at least, slightly rediculous) to liken poetry to a flower.

As for micro-fiction as poetry… what on earth does that mean? If a novel doesn’t approach poetry on some level I don’t find it worth reading–and I don’t mean by that, flowery overly ornate figurative prose; I mean, where language is employed as more than a means to an end, as is the case with most commeercial fiction.

Genie, Thanks for the link and for the recommendations. I just got a Lydia Davis book in the mail today and I’ve requested two others. I can’t wait to sit down and read her. (Plus, I have vol. 1 of Remembrance of Things Past!) I loved our Indian lunch – I’ve wanted to go to Vik’s Chaat House for a really long time and I’m so glad I finally got to do it.

That’s so interesting Courtney, that your work has you on twitter. Is it a way to make sure you’re working??? Hmm.

Dear David, That looks like a lot of fun. I think I might even try it myself. After I read Lydia Davis, and you!

Mari, I think that’s the same conclusion I’ve come to. It simply can’t be the case that you can conclude, simply because something’s written in a short form, that it won’t be interesting. I’m looking forward to becoming interested!

Jacob! I can’t wait to go & see that. And to look at the Joyce. Thank you.

Pauline, Haibun sound like the perfect lunch reading material. In fact, they sound a little like food, don’t you think?

OP — Yes, isn’t it funny how if people are stealing your book it’s a sign that you totally rock as a writer? As for racing you — I’m going to have to slink along in your dust and hope you leave me something when you’re finished!

Dear Dorothy, I’m looking forward to writing about Lydia Davis — I started reading her at lunch today (while I was eating something other than a haibun, but that is my fault, entirely). And what I especially love is that she is funny.

Dearest litlove, I know this isn’t really a response to your comment, but I love that word “risible” — I’m going to see if I can work it into something, although maybe not a law something, because we’re not supposed to have a sense of humor there. Still…. As for twitter, well, every time I go over there to sign up I stop myself — I’m still incorporating facebook into my life. I think twitter will send me over the edge.