Ghostlier demarcations, keener sounds.

I found this Van Gogh print in a thrift store the other day, and it reminded me of a Wallace Stevens poem that I particularly wrapped myself around in college. I reckoned that, at that very moment, I was the only one thinking of Wallace Stevens at 10:30 am in that thrift store, in this town, probably in this state, of my own free will, with no other provocation than a Van Gogh painting.

"The Idea of Order at Key West"

..."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 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."

I really hope that Van Gogh and Stevens get to have a cup of tea together in their respective afterlives. If not, then what a waste.