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A Quarterly Journal
Jeffrey Woodward, Founder & General Editor
Volume 10, Number 2, June 2016

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Judson Evans
Holbrook, Massachusetts, USA


Lens

Everything becomes a lens. Arrow slits of medieval walls gnaw landscape with broken teeth. Phloem ducts and ribbons of lignum ray from carcasses of driftwood where rain erodes primitive eyes—tear-drop seep holes through the limestone. At the summit, subterranean light opens irises in these last days. Maps, multiple translations of the height and speed, cyclist's race times, overflights of reconnaissance planes, how the mountain evades what it might come to mean. Like the "Viewmaster"—that 60's American children's toy—360° wonders of the world in instructive Technicolor—Petrarch, who had written a guide book to the Holy Lands (though he'd never gone, was terrified of sea travel) took a book instead of a scope when he climbed Ventoux: Augustine's Confessions.

wind riffling the pages—
oracle
of ink and air

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