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My life has been given its orders: the seasons seize the soul and the body, and make mock of any dispersed effort. The hour of death is the only trespass
Charles Olson
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Charles Olson
Age: 59 †
Born: 1910
Born: December 27
Died: 1970
Died: January 10
Literary Critic
Poet
University Teacher
Writer
Charles John Olson
Charles J. Olson
Body
Orders
Soul
Seasons
Make
Hour
Life
Effort
Hours
Trespass
Death
Dispersed
Given
Seize
Order
Mock
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O.K. I'm running out of appetite. Let this swirl- a bit like Crab Nebula- do for now.
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I'm trying to climb up both walls at once.
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We all want what's been suddenly disallowed.
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by night only crazy things like the full moon and the whippoorwill and us, are busy.
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what can we do when even the public conveyances sing? how can we go anywhere, even cross-town how get out of anywhere
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You can do anything, really. And that, l think, is one of the exciting possibilities of the present, l swear, is the possibility that the goddamn thing can be modaled throughout.
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bees dig the plum blossoms
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All that matters is that the thing be the thing of the thing.
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of rhythm is image / of image is knowing / of knowing there is / a construct
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This morning of the small snow I count the blessings, the leak in the faucet which makes of the sink time, the drop of the water on water.
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I'm one of the cliches that has grown up.
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