Monday, September 22, 2014

Letters to the Possible World: Rutabaga's

Bald eagle crossed from right to left.
Loon coo-hooed out of sight. Nothing
Out of place in the world of the lake,

So why should I distrust it? It's not
That I don't; only I can't.
On the whole the odds are good

That the lake and the town, the birds
And the people with open windows
And store fronts on the whole are real,

And I am, too, even if none
Of us will ever be able to check
On the rest of us without us.

A man with a problematic face
Hopped the garden wall outside
Rutabagas Natural Foods

And asked me if I were the philosopher.
Said we'd been introduced. Said
He wanted to "share." I didn't

Trust him half so much as the eagle,
The loon, the cold shouldered lake,
Although he was my best guarantor

Of the rest of them. I was wary. I stalled.
He pursued then finally left, although
I was wholly unpersuaded, me alone.

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