Wholly absorbed
                                                 into my own conduits to
                                                 an inner nature or subterranean lake
                                                 the depths or bounds of which I more and more
                                                 explore and know more
                                                 of, in that sense that other than that all else
                                                 closes out and I tend further to fall into
                                                 the Beloved Lake and I am blinder from

                    spending time as insistently in and on
                    this personal preserve from which
                    what I do do emerges more well-known than
                    other ways and other outside places which
                    don’t give as much and distract me from

keeping my attentions as clear

—Charles Olson (1910–1970)

“Additions”, March 1968—2