The Hexagon
If the Pentagon is war, then the hexagon —inner chamber of the hive — is peace. In abstract painting, only the mark is real; resemblances are trivial or unwelcome. The Hexagon is the middle term of the five long poems of this last decade of my writing [Fire Exit, Uncertainties, The Hexagon, Heart Thread, Calls] and it is the most abstract of all my works. Each line is self-contained, inhabiting six-line stanzas, subject like any mark to contingency and proximity. Each line full of particulate matter, neither insists on nor resists connection, accepts the silence at the end of every line of poetry as its meaningful goal.
