Tuesday, September 17, 2013

“Constellation” is, for me, a big word.  I mean: it is a big word.  But more than that, it’s a word which looms large in my thought.
I feel isolated at times, but I know that I—everyone, really—exists within an often shifting web of contexts, entities, persons and concerns.
Writing poetry is, at its best, a most excellent constellating practice:  a form of resistance and alternate world creation.
Constellations aren’t hierarchies.
Constellations are environments, microenvironments and pinballing Ids.
That concludes this afternoon’s sermon.


  1. I read it as "pinballing I.D.'s" but did you mean "ids"?

    Nice sermon!

  2. Ha! I meant ids but might like your read better.