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..:: CONTENTS
::..
Volume X, Issue I
..:: POETRY ::..
..:: PROSE ::..
..:: ETC
::..
Contributor's Notes
..:: ARCHIVES ::..
Volume I, Issue I
Volume I, Issue II
Volume II, Issue I
Volume II, Issue II
Volume III, Issue I
Volume III, Issue II
Volume IV, Issue I
Volume IV, Issue II
Volume V, Issue I
Volume V, Issue II
Volume VI, Issue I
Volume VI, Issue II
Volume VII, Issue I
Volume VII, Issue II
Volume VIII, Issue I
Volume VIII, Issue II
Volume IX, Issue I
Volume IX, Issue II
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from There Is No Wayward Palace
Laura Carter
Rimbaud says that love needs re-inventing. How to proceed seems like a question for a philosopher. Savant, artist, activist, lover. It makes sense to say it this way. A savant is back at one again, red dots drawn on his right hand. An artist is full of tricks, both light and dark. An activist waits, on haunches, like fog, always surveying sky for a proper time. And a lover—well, what a lover knows is that love overtakes in a way that nothing else can presage.
//
Advance //
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