About the Poems
by Michael Koshkin
When asked to write a note about other bits from this manuscript that will appear in The Tiny 3, I attempted to justify my project in a few different ways, writing manifestos, outlining ideas of why a writer should no longer write, trying to justify why Frankenstein is a valid text for my dissections. However, none of these testaments felt entirely accurate, so eventually I declined to write the note.
My project is a look at redundancy: an homage to redundancy and an attack on redundancy. If writing is truly a mixture of one's reading and one's writing, then perhaps I've emphasized more so on the reading act. In this text I've used Mary Shelley's Frankenstein to abandon the self. The language is not mine. I offer bits of my reading instead. In response to a letter I'd written about my earlier erasure project, Parad e R ain, Clayton Eshleman brilliantly regarded pioneers of the trade, such as Ronald Johnson as "carpenter ants, making a living inside other peoples' furniture."
This incomplete distillation, currently titled A Rennet's Fink (an anagram of Frankenstein), indeed practices the "carpenter ant" poetic. Let the insides shine.