Who-what-where

The best part about being completely confused and then utterly ok with being confused, in regard to reading these books, is that I actually come out of the pages thinking of something else. Now that sounds really confusing so here is a quick example of what it is that I think I am trying to say. I step into the book expecting something, someone told me this is poetry and I read it with the idea of "this is poetry" floating about in my head. Then about half way through the third or forth "poem" the voice that says "this is poetry" starts to change its tune and all of a sudden the confidence in the voice is lost and all of a sudden its this squeaky nervous and confused voice sort of saying and asking "this is poetry??!!??"Then by the end of it the confidence comes back because I am starting to "get it" what ever the hell that means, but I don't "get it" because "it" isn't anything but I just come to this acceptance that thats ok, and "this is poetry" and the idea of "poetry" is so crazy and over examined, but completely undermined, that it portrays this casual appeal of anybody can write poetry while still teasing such writers to try and go where they (the poets) have gone because such confusing and, cutting and pasting, translating, loosing one's mind, and then finding it in words on paper takes time, energy, and guts.