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Olson parle
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La lune est la mesure - l'homme est la mesure
Soleil & Terre brûlant
rouge & vert
et nous sommes le reflet
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The greatest poetry profile that was made this side or the other side of the Atlantic Ocean is called the anacreontic award and I hereby now make it and it’s pre-amanquiantic and it is absolutely way down below Atlantis and it has got no end, no end because it is like the stock of heaven and creation and it hasn’t even been booed or had a crown yet, but it exists.

You are moved by the fact that another person sees what it is that you have done, which is like coming to the shore—like I fell off the big rowboat, and I carried the flag with me, and I swam ashore … The other person somehow will say something relevant to what you have gotten yourself involved in. It is so important that it is like love, whatever that is.

It is nothing, but it breaks your heart. That’s all. It doesn’t mean a thing.

I’ve been trying to help people all my life—that’s been the trouble. My sense of responsibility. Otherwise I’m a free man, that’s a big eighteenth-century problem. I’m absolutely trying to climb up both walls at once. That beautiful Blake who is like four feathers of a raven caught down in a chasm of which we’re just later birds, but like, oh, he’s like a frozen four-winged raven, shrieking for the light—not frozen, but ahead of us. Like a box kite. We’re all moving, movie, moving, move. Isn’t it nice?

Paris Review — The Art of Poetry No. 12, Charles Olson

I love him, I love him. Attending Black Mountain College in my sleep