“
from what we cannot hold the stars are made
— W.S. Merwin
from what we cannot hold the stars are made
I think there's a kind of desperate hope built into poetry now that one really wants, hopelessly, to save the world. One is trying to say everything that can be said for the things that one loves while there's still time.
I offer you what I have my
Separation
Utterance"
So this is what I am
My words are the garment of what I shall never be
part memory part distance remaining
Modern poetry, for me, began not in English at all but in Spanish, in the poems of Lorca.
