Gravel. Might have been called that because it was like walking over it in bare feet to get three grumpy old men to agree on how this book should be put together — identifiers or anonymous; interspersed small offerings or a three-tiered cake; with or without an intro?

Or? Call it that because it’s a word with other, quite divergent, words built in & easily accessed — rave, ave, grave, Ravel — & that’s before discarding the original order.

Or? Each of the pieces, as denoted by the poet’s name, being inserted into the document in a random way, like gravel on a path. The point here is to cross each author’s approach in a way that does or doesn’t affect the how of how the pieces relate to each other. Does this matter in terms of how a reader understands each alone & at the same time how a reader may understand the whole & the poetry within the total work?

Or? What is there to introduce? The Pisan Cantos and Zukofsky’s A made do without introductions, if I recall. Maybe when you’re famous—or post-famous, so that people need to be told how important you are. Were. Is that “you” plural? Or, as with Aram Saroyan’s Complete Minimal Poems, you can have a blurb with more words in it than most of the books included. Then you can get somebody to write an introduction to tell us who the blurb writer, Vito Acconci, is. Was. Who will introduce the introducer?

Or? The only true blurb would be along the lines of: “If you read this book and get irritated as hell & say to yourself, ‘Anybody could do that,’ then you’re got the real spirit of the book.”

Take all of the above, & it’s no wonder they invited me in to compose the introduction. All suggestions will be welcomed. Keep watching this space.

— Kasimir Malevich, February 1915 2025, Red Square