Jasmine's Beautiful Thoughts Underneath The Willow
--Wallace Stevens 
My titillations have no foot-notes
And their memorials are the phrases
Of idiosyncratic music. 
The love that will not be transported
In an old, frizzled, flambeaud manner,
But muses on its eccentricity, 
Is like a vivid apprehension
Of bliss beyond the mutes of plaster,
Or paper souvenirs of rapture, 
Of bliss submerged beneath appearance,
In an interior ocean's rocking
Of long, capricious fugues and chorals.

No comments: