Thursday, December 25, 2014

Unstable Manifold


I can’t generalize from me to you;   
The fog appears to me a gorgeous haze;
Another meanwhile curls and turns away
From what light seeps into his darkened room.
Is it permitted to be this bifurcated
Being, or will I rage myself apart?
I hear a plangent ringing in my ears and see

A wriggling sliding down the window pain,
Mist not rain, a wet fog shape chasing
The squirrels into their holes the birds back
Into their leaves.  I’ve got a book of Spencer
On my knees, misjudged I read, just like
The rest of us.  Why prove a thing we’ve proved
Already?  Duffy seeing his chance jumps into my lap.

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