Endless Space

ammons

“I wish I could put into words the coming-round I have experienced (intellectually) the last few years. I once despised feeling as worthless, evanescent, of no “eternal significance.” I thought only of the “permanent” outside, the revolving galaxies, the endless space, and man on his tiny speck seemed meaningless. Can I now make the shift to humanity? Can I feel again? Can my blood stir at last? I now see feeling as incorporating the intellect–I once thought them separate. Intellect is the slow analytic way–the unexperienced way to action: feeling is the immediate synthesis of all experience, intellect as well as emotion.

I ran my motor fast much of my life seeking the saving absolute. There is no such item to be found. I had known these thoughts for a long time, and they meant very little, until I experienced them. I remember the hour I experienced them. Nothing changed, and yet everything changed. Grief, fear, love, life, death, everything goes on just as before, but now everything seems lifted, just a bit, into its own being. ” A.R. Ammons

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Source: Vendler, Helen. “American Expansion.” Harper’s. Aug. 2017: 70. Print.

Braille Poem No. 1 [draft 12292013]

the ring finger
the palm
ring finger
the palm

preoccupied
father again
wonder again
another
chalice-full of vinegar

strapped to this cluttered table
again
Charles Olson                               again
pinot noir                                     again
sony                                            again
starbucks                                     again
menu and ravenous tin
the New York Times                      again

exclude burning past lives
holding the hand of wonder            again
pushed into the street                    again
ring finger, palm
palm, ring finger, palm
suddenly with such speed.         morning again.

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