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Thanks to a residency at EcoHealth, my verse these days finds inspiration in the specter of future pandemics; for my dissertation at LMU München, where I tutor and edit circulars on poetics and composition, I'm anatomizing the prosody of Robinson's sonnets—I also teach at MVHS and lead the Amerikahaus Literary Circle.

20131030

CXIII


by William Shakespeare


Since I left you,mine eye is in my minde,
And that which gouernes me to goe about,
Doth part his function,and is partly blind,
Seemes ſeeing,but effectually is out:
For it no forme deliuers to the heart
Of bird,of flowre,or ſhape which it doth lack,
Of his quick obiects hath the minde no part,
Nor his owne viſion houlds what it doth catch:
For if it ſee the rud'ſt or gentleſt ſight,
The moſt ſweet-fauor or deformedſt creature,
The mountaine,or the ſea,the day,or night:
The Croe,or Doue,it ſhapes them to your feature.
   Incapable of more repleat,with you,
   My moſt true minde thus maketh mine vntrue.


Note:  A recitation can be heard here.

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