The poet occupies the between, the metaxu (Plato’s word, but the idea is common—between the outside and the inside, and between lower things and higher. Here I use a famous Chinese poet as symbol and my own living situation as contingency. (This concept of the between draws on Augustine’s elegant formula for his metaphysical journey.)
Smoke from the neighbor’s bar-b-
que— cedar chips, sal-
mon. I read Po Chu-i
but leave the window open.
If I write something,
my voice will blow with
the smoke, blend with small voices
from high in the trees.