You've got to dig to dig it, you dig?
A trope is nothing other than falling
in love with repetition! Buy
your girlfriend flowers that are
metaphorical—in the sense that stars
are always metaphorical [un-
purchaseable; henceforth! anti-
capitalist [?].] Look at yourself,
you’re 265 years old and still
breaking hearts, tenderly,
slowly, all those good ways—with words,
words, those secret mirrors.
Five Words for William Blake on His 265th Birthday (after Jack Spicer), S. Yarberry
Also, Tyger Quarterly, Issue 11: Fall 2024.
Flattery, deference, smiles, ringing laughter, affectionate greetings were the order of the day.
the quality of their unjudging listening, granted tacit forgiveness,
a soldierly fixity of mind
a series of spastic clumsy gymnastic movements that were somehow accusatory,
He came out of nothingness, took form, was loved, was always bound to return to nothingness.
(GS)
It’s just depravity that they try to make glorious, natural. But it ain’t.
The beauty of what we do is its secrecy, its smallness.
– TM
I see him still. He’s helpful to me, real helpful. Tells me things I need to know.
Her mind traveled crooked streets and aimless goat paths, arriving sometimes at profundity, other times at the revelations of a three-year-old.
That skill allowed her more freedom hour by hour and day by day than any other work a woman of no means whatsoever and no inclination to make love for money could choose.
(TM)
Cécé, Emmelie Prophète. Translated from French by Aidan Rooney. Archipelago Books, 2025. Les villages de Dieu, Mémoire d’encrier, 2020 (Un extrait (PDF) est disponible).
Laferrière loves it.
Discours de reception de Dany Laferriere, 28 mai 2015.
“C’est Legba qui m’a permis de retracer Hector Bianciotti disparu sous nos yeux ahuris durant l’été 2012. Legba, ce dieu du panthéon vaudou dont on voit la silhouette dans la plupart de mes romans. Sur l’épée que je porte aujourd’hui il est présent par son Vèvè, un dessin qui lui est associé. Ce Legba permet à un mortel de passer du monde visible au monde invisible, puis de revenir au monde visible. C’est donc le dieu des écrivains.”
Come out, come close.
Why hide? Why deceive?
You are me and I am you.
Why get mired in me’s and you’s?
We are light upon light—
and the glass light passes through.
Why muddy ourselves with a grudge?
Together, we are whole and complete.
[…]
There’s one spirit in countless bodies,
one oil in countless almonds,
one meaning in countless words
uttered by countless tongues.
Shatter the jugs. The water is one.
Steeped in union, the heart remembers
a world beyond words.
Come out, come close., Jalal al-Din Rumi
