And now! More excerpts from a poem nobody's heard about and which nobody cares about!

Ramon Fernandez, tell me, if you know,
Why, when the singing ended and we turned
Toward the town, tell why the glassy lights,
The lights in the fishing boats at anchor there,
As the night descended, tilting in the air,
Mastered the night and portioned out the sea,
Fixing emblazoned zones and fiery poles,
Arranging, deepening, enchanting night.

Oh! Blessed rage for order, pale Ramon,
The maker's rage to order words of the sea,
Words of the fragrant portals, dimly-starred,
And of ourselves and of our origins,
In ghostlier demarcations, keener sounds.

-Wallace Stevens, from "Idea of Order at Key West"

(It's true, I had one of those rare moments of poignance while I wrote the last page of my final paper on this poem. One of those moments that makes me wish I wept over poetry. But that was also because Julia was playing Cat Stevens, and things look different when you're hopped up on the Cat.)

Whoa! Cat Stevens and Wallace Stevens. If you don't think that's creepy, I've got a sack full of Furbys I'd like to sell you.