TOUS LES JOURS
after the painting by René Magritte
Up here in the mountains
it is an everyday thing
to come across vestiges of
earlier climbers &/or the oc-
casional earlier painting.
They may present as tracks
in the earth or discarded
equipment. Sometimes as
ghosts or holograms. Stare
at the latter for long enough
& they sometimes become
embarrassed, begin to speak.
In a thin voice that still
sparks echoes, this one says:
"I was once the star of The
Age of Enlightenment. Now
the world has forgotten
me. Am I not still beautiful?"
This blog was the successor to the poetry section of the now no longer existing The Argotist Online. This blog is also no longer active, and is now just an archive.
Poem by Stephen Bett
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THE STUDIO The vista which then opened was one I never could’ve anticipated in the Nineties—the PAFA campus was set as a series of jeweled b...
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EQUATIONS #25 When I converse with N on the phone, in about my thirteenth year, our heads open up together, and we create an imaginative lan...
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EQUATIONS #26 Audrey, as a tangent to N, took the idea, not of broadcasting gossip but of sharing and disseminating literature, as a fait ac...