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On E.E. Cummings

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So I know shit about poetry, which is sorta sad. Because poetry can be beautiful and moving and insightful. But, well, yeah. My exposure is limited, my insights sad.

Yesterday, someone on Twitter suggested I give E.E. Cummings a try. Now, I’ve obviously heard of Cummings. But did I know any of the output? No. Zero.

Then I read this …

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The very opening line (i carry your heart with me(i carry it in my heart) is so perfect. Honestly, I’m not sure I’ve ever come close to be a better beginning to a piece. It says 1,000 things in 12 words.

Anyhow, I’m down.

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