leaves, into the mute of clumped dust
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had drawn to the end of Virginia Woolf, To the Lighthouse (1927), with side-glances to Eve Luckring, her Signal to Noise (2025), a few minutes before this and another scribble.
from the first —
Turning back among the many leaves, which the past had folded in him
p 275
from the second —.
How much longer can this go on? All my careful words have abandoned me...
This time the words are hesitant, clumsy. I clip the last of them mid-speech, flick them off my fingers into the mute of clumped dust and stray hair
p 25
aside —
for knowledge of Luckring’s book, I am indebted to Billy Mills, his review (of her’s and two other volumes) at Elliptical Movements, his blog devoted to poetry; see “Recent Reading January 2026: A Review” (19 January 2026) : link
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