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“Away above a harborful of caulkless houses / among the charley noble chimney-pots of a rooftop rigged with clotheslines / a woman pastes up sails upon the wind."
That was a woman, perpetually appearing from behind something, too busy being a part of the world to consider it from the outside. She was the soft pink inside of the world.
Back when I got it, I had just noticed the beauty of the poem's imagery. Looking at it now, it had an added weight. I wanted to be outside the world, like a poet, and I wanted to be inside the world, like a woman.”
―
That was a woman, perpetually appearing from behind something, too busy being a part of the world to consider it from the outside. She was the soft pink inside of the world.
Back when I got it, I had just noticed the beauty of the poem's imagery. Looking at it now, it had an added weight. I wanted to be outside the world, like a poet, and I wanted to be inside the world, like a woman.”
―
