The trick everyday is not to be boring. Sometimes
This means no I at all. Sometimes it means clear out
For a whole new town. Sometimes schoolchildren.
Some days I think, try semiotics for a change, or
Scan the Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam. See dunes
That I only know are there because of movies and
Hearsay. Eventually I too can claim what means
Up and what is a landscape and where are the stars.
I’m an expert by dint of never stopping. On top of
The mountain and all along the old river unless
It’s a foxtail or a railway or just a flourish. Who
Knows better. Wanting only matters if I’m snowed
Thoroughly and then moving on briskly. I’m such
A pilgrim that I don’t care what will come next.
Looking up and wondering can give me a sunburn.
Should we say forgetfulness
About everything from before
We struggle against? I must
Be even farther from not okay
Than I thought. I wish repression
Were easier. More subjunctive
And spoken about less daily.
See my hand not shaking?
I swear it was during previous
Periods of clarification. Splay
The strings of sympathy’s
Guitar. Still the transparency
But know it’s there. You look
Through objects all the time.
Therefore a we we think on.
Beard smells of last night and
Deodorant. A velvet frippery
Dress me up. Cheese. Forget
About me while looking at me,
Prettified representative of an
English. I don’t have to worry,
Do I? Safety in numbers. And
Where did I put those thingums.
Tucked safe behind the ears.