Jim Harrison profile picture

Jim Harrison

I am here for Friends

About Me

I don’t want to teach anybody anything. Everybody’s got to figure it out for themselves. That’s my attitude anyway. Just read all that is good and then write. I’m shocked when I go around giving lectures, how little some people have read in these M.F.A. programs. It’s pretty startling. How can you know how to write unless you’ve read the best? That’s my attitude anyway. But it’s partly that our educational system sucks, so there you are. For every good university, there are 100 colleges that aren’t much good at all. Eat well; of course, avoiding the ninny diets and mincing cuisines that demonize appetite and make unthinkable a tasty snack of hog jowls. We're all going to die, might as well enjoy a little fat along the way. Pursue love and sex, no matter discrepancies of desire and age. Romance is worth the humbling. Doing it outdoors on stumps, in clearings and even swarmed by mosquitoes is particularly recommended. Welcome animals, especially bears, ravens and wolves, into your waking and dream life. An acceptance of our common creaturedom is essential not just to the health of the planet but to our ordinary happiness. We are mere participants in natural cycles, not the kings of them. And finally, love the detour. Take the longest route between two points, since the journey is the thing, a notion to which, contaminated by the Zen-fascist slogans of advertising ("just do it!"), we all pay lip service but few of us indulge. Rather than lighting out for territory, we ought to try living in it.
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My Blog

'From New and Selected Poems'

My left eye is nearly blind.No words have ever been read with it.Not that the eye is virgin  thirty years agoit was punctured by glass.  In everythingit sees a pastel mist.  The poster of C...
Posted by on Mon, 11 Jun 2007 21:56:00 GMT

Dogen's Dream

What happens when the god of springmeets spring?  He thinks for a momentof great whales traveling from the bottomto the top of the earth, the day the voyagebegan seven million years agowhen sprin...
Posted by on Mon, 11 Jun 2007 21:55:00 GMT

Returning To Earth

I'm getting very old.  If I were a muttin dog years I'd be seven, not stray so far.I am large.  Tarpon my age are often largebut they are inescapably fish.  A porpoisemy age was the Kin...
Posted by on Mon, 11 Jun 2007 21:54:00 GMT

30

It is difficult to imagine the wordless conversationsbetween Jesus and Buddha going on this very moment.These androgynous blood brothers demand our imagination.They could ask Shakespeare and Mozart to...
Posted by on Mon, 11 Jun 2007 21:54:00 GMT

23

It certainly wasn't fish who discovered wateror birds the air. Men built houses in partout of embarrassment by the starsand raised their children on trivialitiesbecause they had butchered the god with...
Posted by on Mon, 11 Jun 2007 21:53:00 GMT

12

Not here and now but now and here.If you don't know the differenceis a matter of life and death, get downnaked on bare knees in the snowand study the ticking of your watch.  
Posted by on Mon, 11 Jun 2007 21:52:00 GMT

3,6

I've wasted too much moonlight.Breast-beating. I'll waste no more moonlight,the moon bullied by clouds drifts westin her imponderable arc, snared for a halfhour among the wet leaves in the birdbath.~~...
Posted by on Mon, 11 Jun 2007 21:51:00 GMT

18

My zabuton doubles as a dog bed. Rose sleepsthere, full to the fur with mu. Glanced inon a moonlit night; her slight white figure coiledon the green cushion, shaking with quail dreams.Sensing me, an e...
Posted by on Mon, 11 Jun 2007 21:50:00 GMT