King Oedipus may have had an eye too many, said Hölderlin and kept climbing. Above the tree line is as blank as the inside of a wrist. Rock stays. Names stay. Names fell on him, hissing.
“for prodigal read generous —for youth read age— read for sheer wonder mere surprise (then turn the page)
contentment read for ecstasy —for poem prose— caution for curiosity (and close your eyes)”
e e cummings
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