“…that was the beginning of my life in poetry — to find out that poetry had the most extraordinary intelligence, and that it would just wander and and wander and wonder. And so, I love it to this very day. Poetry is the language that one really must finally know — you know, before you get the hell out of here be sure that you got some poetry because you gonna need it on the other side.” (from “Berkeley Renaissance” talk, November 5, 2008).
Robin, Robin, Robin, you flew this earthly coop in spring.
Trop triste this morning to say more, except add a poem I wrote for Robin some years ago.
for Robin Blaser
one of the secret sharers in-
scribed now into this net,
which is not the world
but our imaging of it
with a stag’s head, on a dragon
as all is
écart à l’équilibre, hormis le rien. C’est-
which, of course, changes
while another sailor song
– HERO it says on his cap –
goes up as/to smoke & yet is a life buoy. maybe
“the bull among the stars”
– it is all about
“the way writing, folded, spreads”
into this, our
P.J. — Oct. 1994