It is more difficult to evade
That habit of wishing and to accept the structureI do not think of myself as a devotee of Wallace Stevens. But the volume was lying on my desk, a research artifact in a recent editing project, so I opened it at random this morning and read the lines above, which end his brief poem "The Bed of Old John Zeller."
Of things as the structure of ideas. It was the structure
Of things at least that was thought of in the old peak of night.
Immediately I felt the vibration. The poem required my attention. Immediately I turned back the page to read the opening lines.
The structure of ideas, these ghostly sequences
Of the mind, result in only disaster. It follows,
Casual poet, that to add your own disorder to disaster
Makes more of it.I do not know if Stevens is speaking to me. I do not know if Stevens is speaking to you through me. But I am writing down what he said, which you may or may not require, which may or may not terrify you.
[For copyright reasons, I cannot share the entire poem here, nor am I quickly finding a link to it online. So you will have to open your own volume to read the rest of it.]