‘But the mingled, mingling threads of life are woven by warp and woof: calms crossed by storms, a storm for every calm. There is no steady, unretracing progress in this life; we do not advance through fixed graduations, and at the last one pause…’
Friday, March 03, 2017
Ben Lerner, Hatred of Poetry
'‘Poetry’ becomes a word for an outside that poems cannot bring about, but can make felt, albeit as an absence, albeit it through embarrassment.’
