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For Fernando Pessoa

Even the gods don’t know
the mathematics adequate
to feeling: poetry
that refuses to choose
between mutual exclusives,
that longs for the impossible
correspondence: the gods
transpose the vocabularies
of intellect and emotion
but it gets them nowhere,
although absence is an ideal
presence: we never asked
the gods for a judgement.

10.11.1987, Holly Road, Christchurch

 


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