Hardy + New Pornography =

One:
The skirts go up
Before the war
Among the madding crowds
They're ruined like the rest of us ruined
Rest of us ruined
You are a living doll
Riding a circle tracks
Behind the walls of clocks
And you ruined
Like the rest of us ruined
Rest of us ruined

Traffic was slow for the crash years
There's no other show like it 'round here
As a rule
Windows were rolled for the crash years
There's no other show like it 'round here
As a rule

Two:
Now this romantic duel is into the streets
Bon appetit, you've eaten me alive you realize

This is not the way
In the streetlight dawn
This beat turns on
This boy's life among the electrical lights

Three:
'Did anybody ever want to marry you, miss?' Liddy ventured to ask when they were again alone. 'Lots of 'em, I daresay?'
Bathsheba paused, as if about to refuse a reply, but the temptation to say yes, since it really was in her power, was irresistible by aspiring virginity, in spite of her spleen at having been published as old.
'A man wanted to once,' she said in a highly experienced tone, and the image of Gabriel Oak, as the farmer, rose before her.
'How nice it must seem!' said Liddy, with the fixed features of mental realization. 'And you wouldn't have him?'
'He wasn't quite good enough for me.'
'How sweet to be able to disdain, when most of us are glad to say, "Thank you!" I seem to hear it. "No sir -- I'm your better," or "Kiss my foot, sir; my face is for mouths of consequence." And did you love him, miss?'
Far From the Madding Crowd (81)

Mythopoietic Conversions! Happy Freedom Day, y'all.

Read: Rilke's "Der Magier"

THE MAGICIAN, Romantic-like (French, English, Italian, and

Le magicien, les yeux tout creux et vides,
emet le mot qui correspond...
Et Deja nait, dans le silence aride,
le trouble sourd d'un gros remous fecond.

(His eyes shallow and empty, the magician
utters the corresponding word...
And in the arid silence, the deaf chaos
of a great fertile tide is already born.)

L'excite-t-il, ou bien deja l'arrete?
Et qui l'emporte --, est-ce le magicien?
On concoit qu'un fait fatal complete
son geste qui ordonne et retient.

(Che egli non eccitare o che già lo stop?
E chi lo porta via - il mago?
Noi concepiamo solo un fatto irreversibile completo
ordina che il suo gesto e mantiene)

Le mot agit, et nul le reprend.
Soudain, a certaines heures, ce qu'on nomme
devient...quoi? Un etre...presque homme,
et on le tue, en le nommant.

(Se mueve la palabra y nadie lo capta.
De pronto, a ciertas horas se convierte en lo que denominamos
BECOMES... WHAT?... A BEING... ALMOST HUMAN,
AND, NAMING IT, WE KILL IT.)

:(

+ Elizabeth Bishop "Late Air"

From a magician's midnight sleeve
the radio-singers
distribute all their love-songs
over the dew-wet lawns.
And like a fortune teller's
their marrow-piercing guesses are whatever you believe.

But on the Navy Yard aerial I find
better witnesses
for love on summer nights.
Five remote red lights
keep their nests there; Phoenixes
burning quietly, where the dew cannot climb.

= + one ART
(Man-Moth)

...Then from the lids/one tear, his only possession, like the bee's sting, slips./ Slyly he palms it, and if you're not paying attention/he'll swallow it.

AND

against my love
against my will
become art