repetition*
Those without stories are preordained to repeat them,
I saw once in the stars.
. . . . . . . . . . Unclear who underwrote that,
But since then I’ve seen it everywhere
I’ve looked, staggering
Noon light and night’s meridian wandering wide and the single sky.
And here it is in the meadow grass, a brutish script.We tend to repeat what we don’t know
Instead of the other way around -
. . . . . . . . . . thus mojo, thus misericordia,
Old cross-work and signature, the catechism in the wind.
We tend to repeat what hurts us, things, and ghosts of things,
The actual green of summer, and summer’s half-truth.
We tend to repeat ourselves.
- Charles Wright
A Short History of the Shadow
(via whiskey river)
* I blame the excessive amount of last nights champagne for the typo.
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