The future stands still, dear Mr. Kappus, but we move in infinite space. - Ranier Maria Rilke, Letters to a Young Poet

Sunday, September 6, 2009

Letter 30

Dear Josephine,

Although your birthday is not until November, your gift is being compiled. It has to do with the fictional place of Yoknapatawpha county -- those familial streets we've dis-assembled upon touching, dis-assembled again in remembering the burning of our soles. I intentionally did not use the phrase "familiar streets". They are more to us now than simply knowing.

Our correspondence is shifting - letters to poems to letters. Do not be alarmed. There is comfort here, in fiction, in mississippi. Rivers to be found, and all that nonsense.

I am going to drink a glass of wine and ruminate on the collection of words, on bears, on how to scavenge for newness.

For now,


No comments: