In elegies of love and death, we learn the legacy of poet Max Jacob, and "the clarity of being alone," but also that we still have to touch to believe, and that love, to believe in itself, must dress up in death. Yet sources of the future are also brought tenderly to us through the image of an unborn daughter, a child's room in autumn, and the knowledge that "gene by gene, the tiny transcriptions continue."
In elegies of love and death, we learn the legacy of poet Max Jacob, and "the clarity of being alone," but also that we still have to touch to believe, and that love, to believe in itself, must dress up in death. Yet sources of the future are also brought tenderly to us through the image of an unborn daughter, a child's room in autumn, and the knowledge that "gene by gene, the tiny transcriptions continue."
