Marjorie Perloff was an unparalleled scholar and interpreter of the avant-garde in the arts of the 20th century, especially poetry. I first encountered her in my DC days of the early 1970s. I take pride in her championing my early poetry book ROCKY DIES YELLOW and the poetry anthology I edited NONE OF THE ABOVE, praising my most notorious poem then, "My Life", in The Washington Post.
She was more critical of my later work and we had other differences of opinion, which I arrogantly gave her shit about when we both lived in L.A. in the '80s and "90s and I went to her home there. The thing I appreciated most about Marjorie was the twinkle in her eye when she gave me shit back.
She was an extraordinary person, someone to learn about for women's history month, which is every month for me, just like black history month and poetry month and pride month etc.
[And if you're wondering, my blog obits are about my take on my personal connection to the subjects, the facts of their lives otherwise available online.]
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