Sunday, November 25, 2012
deeper than postmodernism
The real is always just beyond us. We exist in perennial lag-time. Some acquiesce in paranoiac solids -- religion, politics, economics, science, historiography, social convention. Or float postmodernist theories about those things. Others (a few) keep trying to arc toward the misting real, keep trying to touch the outside with a dreaming, aesthetic gesture. Those others are the poets.