Corinthians

Dear Margaret,

When you inhabit the world as if it were a novel or a poem or a scripture or a song, you can entertain even the worst cruelty. Men and deeds become words; the earth, a field of characters. Thus Pound and his Confucian dreams. Thus Ruiz-Tagle and his poems in the sky.

Word was made flesh only once.

I’ve found the underground surrealists.

vale,

D