I borrow time like a pearl diver: “From this moment I shall be judged ALIVE.” Or dead. It matters only to me. In a torrent, I figure to be the only survivor but it matters only to me. A flawless ascension, psuedo-religious, begins: a poem is pseudo-religious, the outcome is dubious. I am sure of it. It matters only to me. The words "To die in a field of blue roses" become the words I failed to react. You think just another hypothetical. My death in the kitchen is hypothetical. There is no convergence of one & the other. The two are singularly referential. So why do I elaborate? Why do I insist it have meaning? After all, meaning isn’t declared by this poem.
I'll check spicer out.
Post a Comment