the world a letter

Gah. I usually don’t go for generalized rhetoric involving those big words which scare me so. Life is big and general enough to mean anything, at one point or another, and I really feel more comfortable cogitating meaning and metaphysic within a text. But this incomplete I’m working on, running poetic after poetic through the course of American history, has gotten me into the gaseous habit. So here I am, laboring to bear ‘the spiritual.’ Isn’t this work better suited for poesis? Probably. But I’m probably going to keep going anyway. More soon.