In my room

This is what I saw of the world today. A corner of my room. All the same off-white colour (is it still called magnolia?). Or is it? I thought of Arachne(of course!). And I am still so fascinated by Wallace Stevens. 

I enjoyed this just as I emerged from the radio dead zone coming out of the Howgills and heading through the murk to Kendal and into stories. So many stories. The world is a bit surreal at the moment. Yesterday it was a row of beatific nuns (I wondered if I'd walked into a Dave Allen or Monty Python sketch). And then today ended in unsurprised shock (if there can be such a thing) . I intend to fight a battle I shouldn't have to when I get back on Monday. And boy do I intend to fight it and the smell of rot that attends it. When we objectify we are utterly lost.

Of the Surface of Things -Wallace Stevens

I

In my room, the world is beyond my understanding;
But when I walk I see that it consists of three or four
        hills and a cloud.

II

From my balcony, I survey the yellow air,
Reading where I have written,
“The spring is like a belle undressing.”

III

The gold tree is blue,
The singer has pulled his cloak over his head.
The moon is in the folds of the cloak.