Columns made of cloud: the evanescence of what seems established and solid. The vaporous column is secure like the pillar of smoke that leads a world-historical people to freedom and binds heaven and earth. It is also fleeting, dispersed by wind, the divinity that has absconded, leaving us with no sure sign.The poems of THE CLOUD-BUILT COLUMNS are all concerned, whether in personal, national, or historical terms, with time's undoing or re-doing of all we thought was most secure. In an age that asserts that ideas are material and that no word, idea, or feeling can escape from the material system that imprisons us, these poems follow instances of dissolution, disappearance, and death. They assert a pessimism that is not depressing but troubling, troubling because its very presence implies that there is still a listener when we are most alone.James Hatch has published poetry and prose in a number of journals. His first book, THE GREEN BEHIND EVERY SHAPE (2009), is available from Somerset Hall Press.