Tuesday, August 6, 2013


"It is the kind of object you get lost in, and such wandering has a way of yielding unexpected discoveries and connections, as any number of chivalric knights discovered."

The long procession shimmers
In a haze of contexts, far
And near from your perspective
Where you watch it ignore you,
Unaware of you, even
As it drums drums, blares its horns,
And performs its gymnastics

To attract your attention,
In hopes of enticing you
To inspect it more closely,
The whole elaboration
Of borrowed junk and fine parts,
To get lost as it unwinds
And opens coils around you.

Topological inverse
Of the known Ouroboros
(Suffocating constrictor!),
This serpent that parts the leaves
And draws in by opening
The view, knocking down the fruit
Worth chewing, hard to digest.

You pick up that fruit because
The jugglers and the jongleurs
In that long snake they parade
Are tossing fruit and candy
And baubles mixed together.
The truth is in there somewhere,
As Eve found by accident,

But it's not really the point,
Is it? Not even the prize
You're really hoping to catch.
Who wants to know what God knows?
Omniscience! What a burden
That would be: every damned thing
Locked into place forever.

You want mischief, diversion,
Entertainment without end,
And the long, dusty parade,
Indeterminate, wearied,
But still full of surprises,
Encourages you to keep
Paying attention, begs you,
With its antics, keep reading....

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