July 17th, 2009
Wallace Stevens and kokinshu
from Notes Toward a Supreme Fiction
After a lustre of the moon, we say
We have not the need of any paradise,
We have not the need of any seducing hymn.
Festival rice
sown late the seedlings
finally sprout and yet the
planting of this year
will not be fruitless for the
earth of the fields is faithful


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