Wishing Things Were Different: "Antimatter" by Russell Edson

Todays super-fun poem about a special mirror, "Antimatter," by Russell Edson, can be read here, or here, or here. They're all good places to read the thing. Which one you choose is just fate—or

choice—I guess.

Actually, the Lowbrow team has had a change of mind. Due to recent and unforseeable events (you can't blame us) the poem of the day has changed.

It is now "The Reason Why the Closet-man is Never Sad," which you must read by clicking here.

We apologize for making you read "Antimatter," which we love, but it was just the wrong one. "Closet-man" gives a much better first impression of Edson as a poet, the slyness and the wit of his surreal worlds. The closet-man is

obviously sad and afraid of the consequences of living, which we infer this from the ironic title, and, in a most melancholy way, from the unconvincing repetition of the lines "I am never sad."

Playfully whimsical, seriously serious, and often poignant, Edson is a poet alive and kicking. He has published eleven books of poems. Despite of the quality of his work, he has largely remained out of the public eye, and is a self-described hermit.

Thanks to the boon and bane of Google Books, you can read one full book of Edsons poetry online, and preview two others. Click here to be taken to them.

McSweeeney magazine The Believer has an article on Russell Edson, click here to read it.

While talking to Mark Tursi, in the journal Double Room, Edson really pegged what poetry is. Or at least what we, of the offices of Lowbrow Lit, believe it to be:

"All the arts have a strong affinity with poetry. But the difference is that all the other arts are attached to sensory organs like eyes and ears. Poetry can be heard, read, or tapped out on one's back in Morse code; it can be read as Braille through the fingertips. In other words, all other arts have a physical presence which writing has always to earn."

Lastly enjoy this video, an animation to accompany Edson as he reads "Let Us Consider."