Geology, Thinking, and a Tent
As Jan Zwicky’s Wittgensteinian “The Geology of Norway” kept and keeps circling through my mind and body, I remembered Liz Howard’s gorgeous poem, “Thinktent,” which also works with, among other things, thinking from/about/with Wittgenstein. “Thinktent” is from Howard’s debut book Infinite Citizen of the Shaking Tent (McClelland and Stewart, 2015).
So today, more admiration and gratitude for writing with and of bodies, Wittgenstein, ferality, beauty, outrage, and focus, and all with a startlingly wild exactitude.
Here is the first section of “Thinktent” (it will make you want to read more and more, again and again—)
THINKTENT
I am my world. (The microcosm).
-- Ludwig Wittgenstein
Hospitality: the first demand
what is your name?
the city bound me so I entered
to dream a science that would name me
daughter and launch beyond
grief, the old thoracic cause
myocardium: a blood-orange foundry
handed down by the humoral
anatomists and to not be
inside my own head perpetually
not simply Wittgenstein’s girl
but an infinite citizen in a shaking tent