<b></b><p><b>Clark Coolidge’s book-length meditation on a crystal—long considered a masterpiece of American avant-garde poetry—returns in a new edition.</b></p><p>“No other poet ever has so exquisitely, and sometimes also turbulently, written sheer sonic wonder into poetry.”<b>—Lyn Hejinian, author of <i>My Life and My Life in the Nineties</i></b></p><p>In the summer of 1982, Clark Coolidge received an unexpected gift of a crystal; small, clear, entirely unexceptional, the crystal nonetheless provoked the poet into writing what has long been considered his masterpiece, <i>The Crystal Text</i> (1986). A durational poem composed over the course of 10 months, in daybook-like entries of varying length, <i>The Crystal Text</i> is multifaceted and elusive, constantly interrogating itself. Is it a meditation on its titular object like Keats’s “Urn” or a radical investigation of the limits of language as a signifying system? Is the poet cha