I believe that literature is important, and I believe that beauty is important, too. I believe in aesthetics, not for the sake of aesthetics, but for the sake of adding curation to the world. I believe in beautiful books of poems and I believe in broadsides, poems letter-pressed (letter-punched) into thick paper. One day, I will own a small letterpress, and I will make small books, beautiful books, books that have forests in their peripheral vision. They will be for sale, and they will be available for barter, too, because I believe less in money than I believe in beautiful items, a jar of brightpurple kimchi, a set of photographs with thick white borders, a hand-sanded cutting board. I believe in love and I believe in matrimony if you want it and I believe in admitting fault and in feeding oneself and one’s loved ones. In essence, I believe. As a result, I share this stanza that I love (by someone I know), and this whole poem, which I understand completely (by someone I do not know).
In a movie we see a young family live througha tsunami. Sheltering in trees. I think of the man I might expectto find unhurt in a tree above any awful thing. This man whoon Christmas I said I would marry. When I met him I dreamtwe went cheek-to-cheek to the peak of the dome of my room to speakprivately. When something comes true it is like a wreath in your body.
and
(via BLACK LEMON)
panache, perhaps 