Poetry is not often a
Circle. More a snare.
Noose in my hands.
Chiasmus is thorough:
I am locked in.
Jan 16, 2019
Jan 16, 2019 at 11:24 PM UTC
Poetry is not often a
Circle. More a snare.
Noose in my hands.
Chiasmus is thorough:
I am locked in.
"I thought how unpleasant it is to be locked out; and I thought how it is worse, perhaps, to be locked in".
'Circle' as a symbol for balanced aesthetic reflection, dispassionate observation—in Woolf's jargon, the state of the "incandescent" mind.
'Circle' as a symbol for everything that poetry can never be. Everything that I can never embody.
I'm sorry, Virginia. You're not as embittered as I am.
This is a feeble attempt at reconciliation.
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