Abstract
Rabbit Light Kallima Hamilton And to feel that the light is a rabbit-light,In which everything is meant for youAnd nothing need be explained . . . —Wallace Stevens Any little thing your heart desires. Baby sweet root hairs of tiny Russian carrots, yellow-orange tips of nasturtium growing by the galvanized shed. The whole of the field, the entire run of the palace, all for you. Knowing the succulence of crisp autumn sunshine, sudden rain a sleek circumstance pelting your luxurious fur with liquid jewels of happiness. So much to be unconsidered, non-thinking in the now, a perpetual boon, needing no explanation: pure bliss. Of all this make a totem. Turquoise, cinnamon, orchids. Cool undulations with your wild-scented mate, smooth appreciations of soul meetings on jazz-thick afternoons. Replicating the flaws of ancestral avatars, you find peace in the well-furrowed avenues of lemongrass, the taste of freedom on your small tongue like tropical honey. Here, in the land of everything you ever wanted, desire lies underfoot, an enormous hankering accomplished in real time to the imaginary grace of a distant guitar. [End Page 260] Kallima Hamilton Haslett, Michigan Copyright © 2012 The Johns Hopkins University Press
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