Vistas
you'd have yourself echoed millionly for our stars, Virginia,
rubber-stamped daily & nightly, decked with crystal & dew?
done!, since the recent sum of human reflection
on Sthenno's decor has, Virginia, crystallined you many,
companioned wide! your echoes do immobile steadily grow -
but our (gudgeon, quarry, & aim - yes, aim, despite entreaty
lyric & entreaty prosaic!) apprehensions, Virginia, rarely fly slower
texts that change the conscious parameters of literature, both for readers and writers. from a different angle than these, r.p. blackmur adds: 'poetry: [is] ...language so twisted and posed in a form that...it adds to the stock of available reality.' formerly edited by peter ganick. send texts to Volodymyr Bilyk at ex.ex.lit@gmail.com for consideration...
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