I have recently revisited one of my favorite elucidations of poetry mechanics, namely Maurice Blanchot’s thoughts on Stephane Mallarme’s poetry in The Book to Come. I hope you enjoy it.
“Poetry does not respond to the appeal of material objects. Its function is not to preserve them by naming them. On the contrary, poetry is `the wonder of transposing a fact of nature in its quivering near-disappearance`. Chance will be held at bay by the book when language, taken to the limit of possibility and opposing the concrete substantiality of individual objects, reveals nothing but the system of correspondence active in all things. Poetry is then like music reduced to its silent essence: a progression and unfolding of pure correspondence: pure mobility.”