Maybe I was born with this dependence on rivers. I return to them like Homer, Shakespeare, Eliot, Yeats, and Faulkner: foundations that don't fail me, texts that hold multiple meanings, allowing me to find my own interpretation without frontloading anything onto me. My front is loaded aplenty; it's the center that holds, keeps things from falling apart.
What is it about a river, the ceaseless flow, the life sustained extending outward without a radius--it's not a circle, no repsonsibility concerning unbrokenness; break what you will, the river will continue flowing, and like a ship in an Auden poem or Brueghel painting, refuse to take responsibility for Icarus's fall from flight. Rivers have one responsibility: flow.
About the Creator
Harper Lewis
Intrusive rhyme bothers me, except as a weapon.
Intertextuality is my passion.
Formalist/ New Critical are my guiding theories.
My words are mine, not a robot’s.
MA English literature, CofC
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