Prolix prolix! Nothing a pair of scissors can’t fix!

Ktaadn.
“What is this Titan that has possession of me? Talk of mysteries! — Think of our life in nature, — daily to be shown matter, to come in contact with it, — rocks, trees, wind on our cheeks! The solid earth! the actual world! the common sense! Contact! Contact! Who are we? where are we?”

The Cell.
…
The ice
The idea
“Talk of mysteries!
I’m astounded by my body”
A strange matter in which
I’m bound
An elk, a pane of
glass, an egg
“Think of our life in
nature – daily to be encountering
matter, to come into contact
with it – rocks, trees, wind
on our cheeks! the solid
earth! the actual world! the
common sense!
Who are we? where are
we?”

Beginning
again
with Lyn
Hejinian.
Rewriting (Howe’s?) Thorow, rewriting the 19th century through language.
Are Emily’s fascicles visuals, not auralities? In a day when reading a poem by the fire made the poem profound? Letters and correspondence, contacting you, lives written in postcards, yours sincerely, your gnome, she said gnomically, cryptology and the suppressed pun
what do you mean
“Mean. Potatoes”?
all I can read is meat and potatoes, proving once again
from the beginning
the importance of the reader.