Why we write, why we read, and why poetry exists ...
All neatly answered in one short, perfect piece by John Ashbery.
(I could use a day alone with my madness and favorite flower.
Wishing you the same.)
Share your links, please, by way of the ever-helpful Mr. Linky!
by John Ashbery
Alone with our madness and favorite flower
We see that there really is nothing left to write about.
Or rather, it is necessary to write about the same old things
In the same way, repeating the same things over and over
For love to continue and be gradually different.
(Read the rest here, at the Poetry Foundation.)