Susanne Kort Living Room
Before it was so instantaneous
I'd sit here, this exacting chair,
pen in hand, launching an expedition to you, an undertaking
I'd invest in at stately intervals: the mail
took awhile & that may have been its charm: you never knew
if an answer would come or when or what but how
was not negotiable: in the form
of a thing one could hold in the hand, with weft & pith,
a lineny non-deletable, to be stored away, maybe, depending,
in some actual drawer.
And it wasn't just the slow of those days, but the welling up,
& not at will; the final peak of spill—
less explosion than some place sought & reached
by climbing & climbing; & Time was required—
Grand Canyons of it
in which nothing much was done (naked eye):
how we used to be filled
with eternity
