"There is something about poetry beyond prose logic, there is mystery in it, not to be explained but admired."
~Edward Young
A Textbook Of Poetry, 21
By Jack Spicer
Hold to the future. With firm hands. The future of each afterlife, of each ghost, of each word that is about to be mentioned.
Don't say put beauty in here for the past, on account of the past.
On account of the past nothing has happened.
Stick to the new. With glue, paste it there continually what God and man created. Your fingers catch at the edge of what you are pasting.
You have left the boy's club where the past matters. The future of your words matters. That future is continually in the past.
That pathology leads to new paths and pathfinding. All the way down past the future. The words go swimming past you as if they were blue fish.
I love the Addison Street Poetry Panels and visit when I can. They inspire me, and calm my nerves, and remind me that even in the toughest time, there is truth and beauty just around the corner! Addison Street is a very special place on this earth.
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