In her poem "Why I Write Poetry," the late Julia Vinograd offers a stark appraisal of the human condition, positioning the act of writing as a necessary hedge against divine indifference. While the natural world possesses a terrifying beauty, Vinograd argues that it remains insufficient for the human spirit, which she describes as "crucified on the hands of a clock." For Vinograd, poetry is less an act of worship and more a refusal to accept the "clinical mistakes" built into the biological frame.
The blank page serves as an architectural site for a reality we were never given—a "shopping list of eternity" where sickness is absent and the dance of existence is unceasing. Vinograd acknowledges the limitations of her medium; words cannot heal an open wound or become flesh. Yet, she insists on the poet’s duty to speak for a world that needs more time to make its own "splendid mistakes," rather than those mandated by mortality.
Ultimately, the work of the poet is to provide a "rope of words" for those drifting in the currents of time. It is a call to treat each day with the tactile scrutiny of a market shopper testing a melon for ripeness. In a world where we cannot trust the divine to preserve what we love, the poem becomes the only structure capable of mapping the constellations we find in a lover’s face.
With reporting from 3 Quarks Daily.
Source · 3 Quarks Daily
