tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12651507.post-42387234184250005192008-04-23T09:59:00.000-07:002008-04-23T10:04:08.931-07:00only Rae Armantrout could get a poem not about sailboats in the <a href="http://www.newyorker.com/fiction/poetry/2008/04/07/080407po_poem_armantrout">New Yorker </a>(April 7, 2008)<br /><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Integer</span><br /><br /><div id="articletext"> <p>1.</p> <p>One what?<br /></p> <p>One grasp?<br /><br />No hands. </p> <p>No collection<br /></p> <p>of stars. Something dark<br /></p> <p>pervades it.</p><p><br /></p> <p> </p> <p>2.</p> <p>Metaphor<br />is ritual sacrifice.</p> <p>It kills the look-alike.</p> <p><br />No,<br />metaphor is homeopathy.</p> <p><br />A healthy cell<br />exhibits contact inhibition.</p><p><br /></p> <p> </p> <p>3.</p> <p>These temporary credits<br />will no longer be reflected<br />in your next billing period.</p><p><br /></p> <p> </p> <p>4.</p> <p>“Dark” meaning<br />not reflecting,</p> <p>not amenable<br />to suggestion.</p><br /><p><br /></p><p><br /></p> </div>artifact reading serieshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04265222119719560324noreply@blogger.com