only shallow

in the last 10 years or so i've been considering or reconsidering the definition of antipoetry.  any casual reader of this blog would've sussed out my great & abiding admiration of the great antipoet nicano parra.  forsooth!  but what is antipoetry?  to use duchamp's definition of art in re his readymades et al. antipoetry [art] is whatever the maker deems it to be.  might that be a copout explanation?  yes, of course, it is because the products of human imaginative creation cannot be so easily or so blithely described.  because, for better & for worse, i have made my life in poetry.  might not be a great life, or even an interesting one to the casual observer.  but for me poetry is fundamental to my way of being.  at any rate, i recently read somewhere that defined antipoetry being surrealism mixed with pop art.  when i read that my blood quickened.  but, hold on!  i'm not too keen on surrealism [after all, considering all the events of our early century & even those who railed against the bourgeoisie of the 19th & 20th centuries might be swept off their feet regarding how strange our lives have become.  staid, our world, ain't.  with powerful magical technologies!  surrealism was a punch in the nose to ordinary middle-class boring life in all its forms, including the form of the owners of the means of production.]  but pop art!  i'm listening!  plus i think poetry lives in song but is married to speech.  ordinary speech.  graffiti.  memes.  porn.  movies.  pop music.  poetry.  videos.  oh my!  one of my favorite passages of rimbaud's une saison en enfer is where the speaker describes his loves of [then] contemporary pop culture: inane refrains, church latin, erotic novels innocent of spelling, graffiti etc etc.  rimbaud, mon frere!  so then art, antipoetry, poetry et al. is whatever you make it; however, you define it.  let that be on my tombstone!