It is like what we imagine knowledge to be:
dark, salt, clear, moving, utterly free,
drawn from the cold hard mouth
of the world
Elizabeth Bishop
“At the Fishhouses” |
Text removed by direction of the Editor.
Previous Endnotes:
A Local Habitation and
A Name, Vol. 5, No. 1
The Blank Page, Vol. 4, No. 4
The Poem of the Grand
Inquisitor, Vol. 4, No. 3
On the Marionette
Theater, Vol. 4, Nos. 1/2
The Double, Vol. 3, No. 4
Folly, Love, St.
Augustine, Vol. 3, No. 3
On Memory, Vol. 3, No. 2
Passion, Vol. 3, No. 1
A Flea, Vol. 2, No. 4
On Love, Vol. 2, No. 3
Fantastic Design, with
Nooses, Vol. 2, No. 1
Kundera’s Music
Teacher, Vol. 1, No. 4
The Devil’s Dictionary; Economics for
Poets, Vol. 1, No. 3
Hecuba in New York;
Déformation Professionnelle, Vol. 1, No. 2
Art, Capitalist Relations, and Publishing on the
Web, Vol. 1, No. 1
next page
|