from BARDO

The stars are in our belly; the Milky Way our umbilicus.

Is it a consolation that the stuff of which we’re made

is star-stuff too?

– That wherever you go you can never fully disappear –

dispersal only: carbon, hydrogen, nitrogen, oxygen.

Tree, rain, coal, glow-worm, horse, gnat, rock.

Roselle Angwin

Tuesday, 18 January 2011

poetry's not a narcotic

Yesterday I wrote, very restrainedly, I think, considering how passionately I feel about poetry in the life of a culture, about L=A=N=G=U=A=G=E poetry and the cerebral approach.

Poetry is not a narcotic; but as a mind-altering 'substance' it does have qualities in common with certain drugs; notably that to get the headrush you have to inhale.

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