Theological doubt of the French symbolists
So: you’ve given up on correspondence
and now talk on the phone instead.
The other day you finally made sense
when you said, “a tree’s a tree; now
let’s go to bed.”
Have you ever seen the sun light
upon a spray? A single branch, spread
up and up and then—chosen? How
might we mince
words no longer? How might we apply
the opening of our ends? Let’s go
ahead: no matter the stylus, no
matter the wax: a mark’s a mark
and will be read.