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Agosto 29, 2011
the illusion that this was what was...
Frank had the illusion that though the universe of one of his poems seemed so close to what seemed his own universe at the second of writing it that he wasn't sure how they differed even though the paraphernalia often differed, after he had written it its universe was never exactly his universe, and so, soon, it disgusted him a little, the mirror was dirty and cracked.
Secretly he was glad it was dirty and cracked, because after he had made a big order, a book, only when he had come to despise it a little, only after he had at last given up the illusion that this was what was, only then could he write more.
- Frank Bidart
(writing about himself) in his prose poem Borges and I
Posted by sarita at Agosto 29, 2011 11:37 AM