It is a matter of casual irony.
While researching background information on classical sculpture, for a short poem comparing my Brendan with Apollo, I found a small notation of an allusion Marianne Moore makes to the Apollo Belvedere: “Truth is no Apollo / Belvedere, no formal thing” (“In the Days of Prismatic Color”) — so I pull down my copy of her Complete Poems only to proceed in drowning myself in the ocean of entangling knots of her hyperbole and extended metaphor. Overall the ideas express benefit loosely with my work— as an ill fitting shirt, the cuffs hanging low, below the fingers— but there does exist a connection. Part of Moore’s theme is to display a simplistic notion in a complex venue. Knotting the unknotted. In other words: How to explain the process light motions through a prism. Yes, she goes beyond this, but my point remains, Moore is successful at generating a dense observation, “dense” as in “solid.” “Firm.” “Stable.”
Oddly enough I like the structure of the work— the regularized cinquain stanzas, the repeating pattern of meter. The work moves unexpectedly in opposition to its point. That is, in the end Moore explains that the process of intensifying a simple matter is actually a simple process. I do not want to formalize my thoughts beyond this however. Her quote mentioned already makes a strong epigraph, well-placed for my poem.
A fact which proves how research works towards unseen ends.
•35/ A joy exists within each little blue pill taken at night to drown out the insecurities of the day, to be able to swim deeper into the belly of the night, slumbering with the pikes and monk fish and saltwater prawn.