Today, most curiously, is the birthday both of Edgar Allan Poe, and of his literary soulmate & would-be bride, Helen Whitman. I've written a lot of local-historical poetry about them, & other local Providence things, which you can find here (best to start at the beginning).
Edgar Poe was fading fast in the late 1840s. Yet he had hopeful & grandiose dreams - of marrying Helen, of starting a new literary journal, of instigating an American cultural Renaissance. It all came to nought... or not. Poe, in characteristic ghoulish (Baudelairean) fashion, achieved his aims - after a century or so. His Providential ghost-bride (Whitman) came at it from another angle... yet they reached the same goal. (Walt was the only literary figure of note to attend Poe's lonely funeral.)
Early tomorrow morning, a rare alignment of planets will be visible on the North American east coast. (Search below for confirmation.)
LILAC BARGE
In the Rock, the library, in Providence.
Snow’s hexagon glissando
falls on Whitman-Poe
birthday. Athenaeum lens
(blind flash of mercury & lead)
poses twin agate lamps –
of seahorse hippocamps
& dread. Envisioning (not-dead).
Dust-labyrinth of pupa-pharaoh.
Curious mummy-volumes
Oedipus exhumes...
– Eureka! I have found you,
Madeleine! In mold of lichen
Venn diagram (Raven) –
Martian crossroad, Jovian
Juliet-canoe... (shade of Ferrara sun).
Saturnine Henry disappears
under the alignment
of these stars’ bent
light palladium coheres
& spheres revolve (toward Galilee).
Into Newport Holy-Land
sail Jack & Jackie... Helen
Whitman... Eddie Poe. One shy
brown bird, conducting lilac barge
beneath cedar boughs;
bearing between twin prows
her dewy double-ewed grail-charge.
1.19.16
Providence Athenaeum
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