Why in hell is this a feel-good story? Well, because the investigating officer, Detective Morris, appears to be aware that poetry is alive and breeding and can be just as "scary" as "life." That Morris appears familiar with contemporary poetry beyond Mary Oliver is heartening news. One can only imagine what might have happened if, for example, John Barr had been the arresting officer.)
The following is Mr. Bellard's earnest and often hilarious account, re-posted here from Montevidayo. --Eds.]
Luck of the Irish
It was late at night when I got the e-mail for the assignment to write an imitation of Johannes Göransson. I was sick and really didn’t feel like writing a poem that I wouldn’t finish till 11:30 that night, but I hated being sick more and to change my routine would be to let the virus win. So, I read a few of Johannes’s poems. I picked out some elements of his style (killing, doll penis[es], and demons to name a few). The overall feel of his style was that it was quite disturbing. I set out to make my imitation even more disturbing—like the ramblings of a schizophrenic before some terrible act—and after the events that transgressed shortly thereafter, I’d say I’d surpassed my own expectations in that.
