Untitled (to Sappho) 1976, Cy Twombly I read that line of poetry you inscribed, not as Citation, not as illustration, but as lines--we are Made of lines, visible, inseparable--actions Of packed immediacy, choices of materials, Colour, and drawing. I allow your work to thrust Me into the present, that other way to read a Poem aloud. Like a hyacinth in the mountains Trampled by shepherds until only a purple stain Remains: I read visual (hyacinth!), I read olfactory (scent!), I read tactile (crushed by shepherds!), And I read back to visual again (that stain left behind!). And that smudge--a violet stain in wax Crayon, sinuous, compressed, smell, touch, and I join the act of reading--the sound of words. G. E. Schwartz G. E. Schwartz is the author of previous collections of poetry, Only Others Are, WORLD, Thinking In Tongues, and Murmurations, and lives in upstate New York.
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September 2024
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