Debates on the much-disputed moniker of the Anthropocene often focus on the implied “we” of the term. That humans have remade the planet in their image is not in doubt, but naming this geological age after anthropos in general obscures the very different individual and national levels of carbon output, resource extraction, and exploitation of some humans by other humans. Some have argued that the “we” claimed by the Anthropocene covers over a number of antagonisms and dominances and serves to diffuse political dissensus and differential responsibilities.
Cueva de las Manos — Santa Cruz, Argentina, ca. 7300 BC
Josh asks, “What will poetry be in ten thousand years?” I’ll answer that if human beings survive then language will survive, which means there will be poetry, and it will probably be as various as it has been for the last ten thousand years, ranging from everyday slogans to ritual chants to coterie wit to systematic verbal exploration.
Post-ecopoetics is a guide for thinking the longevity and durability of the poem in deep time. I have asked a number of poets and scholars to serve as additional guides by asking them to respond to the following questions: “What will poetry be in ten thousand years? If you wrote a poem that you knew would last ten thousand years, how would this impact your writing?”
Each of their responses will be posted as an individual commentary linked to this series.
Cueva de las Manos - Santa Cruz, Argentina, ca. 7300 BC
Writing is a roll of the dice every time. The results will most likely be lost, but, hey, once you know you’re going to die, then to hell with it, right? Admit this, otherwise you’re not really doing it.
Post-ecopoetics is a guide for thinking the longevity and durability of the poem in deep time. I have asked a number of poets and scholars to serve as additional guides by asking them to respond to the following questions: “What will poetry be in ten thousand years? If you wrote a poem that you knew would last ten thousand years, how would this impact your writing?”
Each of their responses will be posted as an individual commentary linked to this series.
Cueva de las Manos — Santa Cruz, Argentina, ca. 7300 BC
Ten thousand years is a test of imagination. By then the time of the body and the temporal duration of my individual consciousness will have been absorbed into a large plume of smoke or have been consumed wholly into the earth. There is no posterity.
Post-ecopoetics is a guide for thinking the longevity and durability of the poem in deep time. I have asked a number of poets and scholars to serve as additional guides by asking them to respond to the following questions: “What will poetry be in ten thousand years? If you wrote a poem that you knew would last ten thousand years, how would this impact your writing?”
Each of their responses will be posted as an individual commentary linked to this series.
Cueva de las Manos — Santa Cruz, Argentina, ca. 7300 BC
Practically speaking, writing something I knew would last ten thousand years would be terrifying to the point of paralysis. I certainly wouldn’t be able to write anything resembling poetry or human language, because I don’t believe such things will last ten thousand years, or even one thousand. I think, not originally, that simple images, music, and math would be better modes of communicating with the deep future, where what we now call the “human” most likely won’t be recognizable, and certainly won’t be listening in any familiar sense.
Post-ecopoetics is a guide for thinking the longevity and durability of the poem in deep time. I have asked a number of poets and scholars to serve as additional guides by asking them to respond to the following questions: “What will poetry be in ten thousand years? If you wrote a poem that you knew would last ten thousand years, how would this impact your writing?”
Each of their responses will be posted as an individual commentary linked to this series.
Post-Ecopoetics