Through mundanity, by
a strange curse, excited to
feel motion. Legend wisdom, passed
across seas, Egypt to
Mesopotamia landing in
Jerusalem. I sense
aging, hankering over
sequences, needing reality
a certain design. By myth-
fiber, a fib in me, palming a mirage
—eyes shocked, inner numen
giggling, with true
rain, with true art, with
dying seeming unfair. To
figure it out, unravel yarn, so
close to immortalization, sudden
into a dimension: having
to meet a face, energy
becoming a dream, a body, a
soul as it walks, speaks, and
motivates. Wits and
dragons; mature barges;
sociable mandates. I know
what’s said, earnest
seekers, fervid orison
—to have passed through
time, pragmatic pains, to
have selected resistance, framed
by culture. Never meeting
a person, mainly looking
at a graph, needing nothing
more than gender and race. Cozy
definitions, rancid beliefs, a
soul caressing a leaf, looking
into twilight, tapping his foot.
