Benjamin, martyr to dust and morphine, wrote
“Ideas are to objects as constellations are
To stars." Adorno did not seem to agree. So?
Neither do we. Ideas are never to objects,
And constellations have nothing to do with stars.
We should not make this argument. We should
Not rub the paddle against the gunwale for fear
Of disturbing the silliness of all cathedrals.
We remember our lakes in the woods, our stars,
Our dust in the suburban houses we left behind.
We had never been wild, not human beings.
We had cottages sprinkled around in our thoughts.
You could sleep in our words, take meals
At our farmhouses. That’s just what the world
Looked like five minutes before we climbed
Into it to die. Aspens and ice, but then we survived.
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