“A poem must be a holiday of Mind. It can be nothing else.
…
One discards its poverty, its weaknesses, its everydayness.
One organizes all the possibilities of language.
The holiday over, nothing must remain. Ashes, trampled garlands.”
– Paul Valéry –
When I meet a shower, a lightning, a rainbow… and a vibrating poem… I know what it feels like… it doesn’t belong to the earth… feet off the ground… leave them there, just for a while, just for a little longer.
