Marginalia
When I find something brilliant in a book
that bursts with ideas and
sparklingly beautiful versions of things
I suddenly realise I knew all along but didn’t have the words for
it hurts a bit. Tenderness prodded.
I want to take these treasures and hug them,
sift them, frame them, try them on
and see how they work with my old stuff.
I must do this now:
waiting is impossible.
Nothing can ever be the same again.
My life before these words is dull and tarnished,
so I must assimilate
and shout very loudly about the things that I learned.
