But he writes beautifully, and his diagrams are like my poems.
The point at which language loses any pictorial quality and becomes structure.
I am attempting a literary form in visual terms.
Reading and transcribing.
But after gathering comes sorting.
A brief-scrawled sketch.
Composing, like a score, by field.
In the second draft, the ‘I’ is dropped. Instead,
notes to myself.
The beginning should look like this.
marginalamericannotes.com 