May 2009
15 posts
VII What kind of beast would turn its life into words? What atonement is this all about? - and yet, writing words like these, I’m also living. Is all this close to the wolverine’s howled signals, that modulated cantana of the wild? or, when away from you I try to create you in words, am I simply using you, like a river or a war? And how have I used...
Whatever’s lost there is needed by both of us - a watch of old gold, a water-blurred fever chart, a key…Even the silt and pebbles of the bottom deserve their glint of recognition. I fear this silence, this inarticulate life. I’m waiting for a wind that will gently open this sheeted water for once and show me what I can do for you, who have often...
April 2009
2 posts
March 2009
299 posts
