A. A violent order is disorder; and
B. A great disorder is an order. These
Two things are one. (Pages of illustrations.)
. . . . . . . .
A. Well, an old order is a violent one.
This proves nothing. Just one more truth, one more
Element in the immense disorder of truths.
B. It is April as I write. The wind
Is blowing after days of constant rain.
All this, of course, will come to summer soon.
But suppose the disorder of truths should ever come
To an order, most Plantagenet, most fixed . . .
A great disorder is an order. Now, A
And B are not like statuary, posed
For a vista in the Louvre. They are things chalked
On the sidewalk so that the pensive man may see.
The pensive man . . . He sees that eagle float
For which the intricate Alps are a single nest.
Below: "Idea"’s motif as it appears since last winter’s snow storm: apparent are the order/disorder of climate change and the disorder/order of development in the boarded-up house to the right.