Always already, the word within the world.
So the spider spins the same web each morning
and you are born into meaning
like a serf into a ditch—this is your horizon:
a huddle of huts, smoke lifting
into a bloody sunset. So
culture is a kind of nature,
a library of oak leaves
muttering their foregone oracles
while stars wheel in their fixed
imaginary constellations
and out in the harbor
a mermaid drowns in the net
from which if a small silver herring should escape
it is only into the greater net, the ocean.
-Katha Pollitt, 2004
2 comments:
Is that harbor area you keep posting pictures of near where you're staying? Which I suppose leads naturally enough to my next question, where are you staying?
The harbour area's down near the city center; the city of Tromsø is on an island, and I live in student housing (for the University of Tromsø) on the other side of the island, but go to the center periodically for errands and things.
Also, I owe you a letter. I make no promises as to when that will happen, but it will happen.
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