In today’s Writer’s Almanac, we learn about the poet May Swenson, who said that poetry is, "based in a craving to get through the curtains of things as they appear, to things as they are, and then into the larger, wilder space of things as they are becoming. This ambition involves a paradox: an instinctive belief in the senses as exquisite tools for this investigation and, at the same time, a suspicion about their crudeness."
My first thought on hearing this (I get the podcast via iTunes) was oh, that’s going on the blog. Which immediately points out a recurring problem for me with the art and artifice of blogging; to wit, its capabilities for instant publishing. Whenever I think about blogging on a topic, I get in a hurry. Must type quickly and click Publish, before the furiously-spinning earth turns too much farther into the night.
The arrow of time has been launched, and we are flinging ourselves through space in pursuit of it. The concept that the sooner I type something up, the sooner I can instantly publish it, just makes that pursuit more frenetic.
Incidentally, the Latin phrase tempis fugit means time flees, not time flies, and not time is of the essence, though I suppose it’s all the same.
Time is an illusion. Lunchtime doubly so.
– Douglas Adams
So I am going for a walk, to step away from my cyclopean friend here and think about the possibly brilliant thing poet May Swenson said about poetry. Then I’ll decide if there is some annotation or explication I would like to contribute to it. In the mean time, I’m going to instantly publish this, to let you all know that process is taking place:
A bit of psychic Top Kill, if you will.
Ha! I got you. You thought I was going to forego instant publishing for a few minutes, did you? I’m sorry, Dave, I’m afraid I can’t do that. It’s 2010, we are fleeing through space. And in space, no one can hear you think.