pound for pound. from flynn.

Buffy,

You know what I find exhilarating? Reading something like this:

The light of our cigarettes
Went and came in the gloom.

It is a simile with “like” suppressed: Pound called it an equation, meaning not a redundancy, A equals A, but a generalization of unexpected exactness. So this tiny poem, drawing on Gauguin and on Japan, on ghosts and on Persephone, on the Underworld and on the Underground, the Metro of Mallarm’s capital and a phrase that names a station of the Metro as it might a station of the Cross, concentrates far more than it ever need specify, and indicates the means of delivering post-Symbolist poetry from its pictorialist impasse. “An “Image’ is that which presents an intellectual and emotional complex in an instant of time“: and that is the elusive Doctrine of the Image. (Hugh Kenner)

…and being overwhelmed by all the potential new information – things to reference in it.

It always reminds me why I love what I love.

Flynn