Wallace Stevens - The Ultimate Poem Is Abstract lyrics

This day writhes with what? The lecturer
On This Beautiful World Of
Ours composes himself
And hems the planet rose and haws it ripe

And red
And right the particular question here
The particular answer to
The particular question
Is not in point the question is in point

If the day writhes
It is not with revelations
One goes on asking questions that, then
Is one
Of the categories so said, this placid space

Is changed it is not so blue
As we thought to be blue
There must be no questions it is an intellect
Of windings round and dodges to and fro

Writhings in wrong obliques and distances
Not an intellect in which
We are fleet: present
Everywhere in space at once, cloud-pole

Of communication it would be enough
If we were ever, just once, at the middle
Fixed in This Beautiful World Of Ours
And not as now

Helplessly at the edge, enough to be
Complete, because at the middle
If only in sense
And in that enormous sense, merely enjoy