Stochastic Bookmark

abstruse unfinished commentary

about correspondence


Ontology and deontology

Objects in this poem are closer than they appear.
Money is no object, for poetry does not pay.
Poetry is theft, from the depths of allusion,
Estranged from con—no, denotation.
What is its object? To say what must be said
No other way, the rest an interval
Between discordant notes. No matter what


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