There is no movement forward. Despairingly,
you try to move but cannot. Yet everything
connects. Sometimes, you know, the poem can-
not stop: from day to day, a gift in fragments. Because Tarn's process has been long and arduous, crossing many lines of discipline, language, and culture, when he comes to some vague possibilities of joy, or even of hope, he is much more convincing than lesser thinkers who work from a smaller data set:
Emotions are dead leaves; yet some may carryNathaniel Tarn comes to town to read in the One Pause Poetry series, now held at the Metal gallery on Felch St., on May 5.
to sing as if a world were morning, as if light,
still tinted by the birds, were truth and possibly.
[Originally published in May, 2012.]
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