thursday, march 13

the poem and the song
the essay and the photograph
these are the forms i've come
to really love
the ones that can
inhabit some
moment place or idea
with a sometimes
nearly unbearable
subjectivity, with
an interiority which
is also universal
which at least hopes
for some universal


it's probable that
subjectivity is necessary to any
sense of meaning in the experience
of life

whether this is merely the home
truth of a certain kind of nihilism
or a cause for some guarded hope
depends entirely on whether you
believe that interiority
carries some greater weight
than the sere numeric totality of
objective fact

which is of course a mystical
proposition, at heart
and as such is essentially folly

of the kind i can't quite shake
however hard i try