Friday, January 11, 2013

11 enero 2013

from Leslie Scalapino’s “ ‘Can’t’ is ‘Night’ ” in It’s go in horizontal: Selected Poems, 1974-2006 (2008):

the breaking of reason

        is silent seeing

European hare & burrowing owl

from Susan Howe’s My Emily Dickinson (1985):

Emily Dickinson once wrote to Thomas Wentworth Higginson: “Candor — my Preceptor — is the only wile.” . . .

Perception of an object means loosing and losing it. . . .

"My Life had stood — a Loaded Gun — ," written in a time of civil war by a woman with little formal education in philosophy, carefully delineates and declines all aspects of the "Will to Power" nearly twenty years before Friedrich Nietzsche's metaphysical rebellion. . . .

This is a frontier poem. Forester of New England wayward pilgrim. Trees have been stripped to the root by a seer on her path across circumference of intellection. This is a tragic poem. A pioneer's terse epic. Sorrow's melody is magic. Pitch of vowels, cadence of consonants, sound fused with sense — asceticism. For years I have wanted to find words to thank Emily Dickinson for the inspiration of her poetic daring.

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