There Is No Word A Poem by Tony Hoagland www.poetryfoundation.org what I already am thinking about is my gratitude for language— how it will stretch just so much and no farther; how there are some holes it will not cover up; how it will move, if not inside, then around the circumference of almost anything— how, over the years, it has given me back all the hours and days, all the plodding love and faith, all the misunderstandings and secrets I have willingly poured into it. languagewords
Every Thing An Essay from Every So Often a Talking Dog Appears by Smiljan Radić A crumpled drawingThe tower
A crumpled drawing A child is walking with a crumpled drawing in his hand. Someone asks him if the crumped drawing has a "name"... "Every thing," he replies. nameschildhood
The tower The tower is just a common grater. It is not used to look out toward a distant world from above, but only to slice, grind and grate its surroundings. Anyone who stepped inside would see an irremediably cold, metallic, empty void, and a few scattered holes where the world literally seeps through in pieces. It is a sad project. After the Fair architecturemelancholydarkness