I want to feel what I feel. —[1] Toni Morrison, The Guardian (2012)
Let us consider a poetry of the apostrophe. That is to say, an exclamatory poetry, a poetry addressed to no one in particular, a poetry of broken and abstracted personification, of possession and emotion in the extreme. To put it another way, a poetry of a sign used “to indicate the omission of one or more letters in a word … to indicate the possessive case … to indicate plurals of abbreviations and symbols.”[2] In other words, “O death, where is thy sting? O graue, where is thy victorie?”[3]
