Ecco: a little Fibonacci-inspired syllabic poem – 3, 5, 8, 13 and back again – about getting stuck.
the episode.
metronome
for days without shape,
spent on the underside of my
solipsistic wanderings, where the deep’s arrived at
my door, where all good sense has sunk
beneath the weight of
time, ticking.
A side note: back in May 1999, I went to the Tate Gallery in London, where they were exhibiting “The Deep” by Jackson Pollock. Every time I think of the deep as a concept, I always remember this painting, if only because white has never looked so black and black never so white as on this canvas. It reminds me that, ultimately, it’s all a matter of perspective. ♥ EAB