So There Robert Creeley

Whatever man, Creeley's oh-so-simple style couldn't sustain me. I really liked some of the clipped language, the way he writes

Rest wants
to lie down
in the sun,
make resolution.

But that's all you get. Wood-chip and fragment. His journals-like poems--the dude got around, man--don't reflect any kind of diversity. He’s like some kind of anesthesia. Everything becomes a hard edge, a clump of words, a mouthful of rocks.