& here is verbal construction written in 1983 by poet Robert Kelly :
Doors
Suppose you didnt know what a door is. That it opens, for instance.
It would seem a different part of the wall, thinner, more resonant.
A decorative rectangle set in the wall, an embodiment of some
geometrical mystery like the Golden Section. It would seem tantaliz-
ing to someone trapped in the room -- a perverse, mean tease: the wall
is thin here, soft, but still unpassable. How little it would take to
get through the wall, yet you cant.
Suppose you didnt know what a door is, that it can open, that its
resistance defines the zone of least resistance, but that zone requires
a deft use of something learned, a knack, a skill: twisting the knob
and pulling. Or pushing. Even if you got as far as turning and pulling,
if the door were the kind that opened outward, you'd still never guess,
never get through.
Suppose all round us there are things like doors in things like walls
and we never knew.
: reb
No comments:
Post a Comment