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Clifford Duffy has a deeply affecting poem up, please see his 'of' at its location.
(Thanks, thanks Clifford Duffy)
What do we feel when we scroll between the lines? Time in a way is felt. Is this the normal time we feel? It reminds me of a sort of skimming, or when a plane lands; it touches down briefly, then glides back up in the air, touches down again briefly, then glides in the air, and so on. When reading the text we feel activity. We come to the spaces, and that activity is suspended. Suspended, but not really stopped. It is held in its motion. It is held in the intensity of its motion, like an instantaneous velocity. As we read the lines of any given text, there is motion in the space that the text occupies. But it is more than just the motion of our eyes passing across the space of the page. There is a motion of meaning. In Duffy's spaces, there is like the pure motion of meaning, meaning's speed without its text, a pure speed of meaning.
Clifford Duffy, 'of'
http://recalltopoetry.blogspot.com/2010/12/of.html
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