Signs point elsewhere. To the place of ghosts. On the road to nowhere. The lost radiance. On the journey you pick a lot up however. And that is the journey. To not end. Even if nowhere. Always with the empty inside that is yours but along the way, the stops and potholes, rims, shoulders, shatterings, asphalt flowers that are the tradition of the road, and the company.
vale Jackson Mac Low 1922-2004
Belatedly, wanting to acknowledge the passing of Jackson Mac Low last week. There's an obituary at The New York Times and here's more info on Mac Low .
The poem below is from his series of Light Poems.
1ST LIGHT POEM: FOR IRIS -- 10 JUNE 1962
The light of a student-lamp
sapphire light
shimmer
the light of a smoking-lamp
Light from the Magellanic Clouds
the light of a Nernst lamp
the light of a naphtha-lamp
light from meteorites
Evanescent light
ether
the light of an electric lamp
extra light
Citrine light
kineographic light
the light of a Kitson lamp
kindly light
Ice light
irradiation
ignition
altar light
The light of a spotlight
a sunbeam
sunrise
solar light
Mustard-oil light
...
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