INTERSTITIAL ODE
-
Ted Pearson
(U.S.A.)
It
is not “the despair
of poetry” that “there’s
nothing more to say.”
Rather, it’s when there’s
nothing to say that
poetry is renewed.
Given the Void from
which all things flow –
first came language,
then lyrics; first came
melody, then song –
which we’ve been
saying
all along – years
we’d rather not recall,
unless, of course, we
had them back and death
could be forestalled.
Otherwise, what’s
the point in mourning
a past that’s long since
past
transforming.