Viatica 1
Where did the way lead when it lead nowhere?
: alone and in advance
dissolve, and how a tree resembling a detour
Wayne Koestenbaum on Andrew Zawacki
I am haunted by this poem's deft combination of transparency and obscurity: the language is pellucid and ever forward-moving, with no terminal punctuation, and yet its repetitions and abstractions leave an impression of mystery, of sadness, and unspeakability. The poem balances, as well, up-to-date and piquant diction ("gigolo fog") with the sort of spiritual drone we value in the music of Henryk G—recki. "Viatica" is a work of subtlety and beauty; ultimately, the poem earns its imposing epigraph from Paul Celan.