The Word, Ah, Yes, the Word

Passions, he said, live themselvesin being. Better hop on the trainof curiosity. Even engage    confusion.Chaos, Saramago wrote, is merelyorder waiting to be    deciphered.Oh, tormented genius,Ludwig Wittgenstein, your trundlethrough language    woven as tapestryof facts as pictures in their logical abodebut when the syllables have left    your concrete pageyou cry in literate despair,forced into fluidity that swings and swimswithin their native tribe.    Back I goto Stevens hugging his illogicwhere deepest sense abides. He toobroke half-baked bread with the philosopher.

The gaiety of language is our seigneur.

Peggy Aylsworth (1921–2021)
Santa Monica, California