A commenter to previous post criticizes me for not being "weird enough". Have a feeling he doesn't really know much about my poetry. Note the lens of Native American & Siberian shamanism, that focuses my longest poem, Forth of July. See the syncretism of Christianity & other aspects of traditional Western culture through that lens (for an example, here's a passage from Grassblade Light, the central book of Forth of July, which was published in Jacket magazine, once upon a time. It's about "Blue-J").
Weird is as weird does. Like many a "shamanic" type (charismatic), I have to live at certain a distance from socializing (po-biz et al.), & strictly limit my daylight behavior to regular routine (i.e. I mean, going to the library every day for 25 yrs...). (I say this only partly tongue-in-cheek.)
But read it in my poetry. Not many do (they're too busy decorating the tombs of their ancestors).
Or hey... consider the "Berryman's Henry redivivus" theme. (All the way to the operatic "Hen-scratchin'-on-the-dump" Finnegans-Wakean finale to Stubborn Grew. & happy Bloomsday to you!) Oh, I'm just gettin' started with weird...