Life consists Of propositions about life. The human Revery is a solitude in which We compose these propositions, torn by dreams, <p> By the terrible … - Wallace Stevens

Home from Guatemala, back at the Waldorf. This arrival in the wild country of the soul, All approaches gone, being completely there, Where the wild poem is a substitute For the woman one loves or ought to love, One wild rhapsody a fake for another.<p>You touch the hotel the way you touch moonlight Or sunlight and you hum and the orchestra Hums and you say "The world in a verse,<p>A generation sealed, men remoter than mountains, Women invisible in music and motion and color," After that alien, point-blank, green and actual Guatemala.

The poem goes form the poet’s gibberish to The gibberish of the vulgate and back again.

For the listener, who listens in the snow, / And, nothing himself, beholds /
Nothing that is not there and the nothing that is.