I made him a present – had it sent on a whim –
of sweets that had long been forbidden him.
I was angered he’d put such a thing in my way –
a certain prolixity of affect, let’s say.
But I couldn’t escape his idiom.
***
People nowadays place the cause of our torments
about halfway between custom and ordinance.
But by these means, I’ve created, it seems,
these charades of the moment prefigured in dreams,
mementos of a largely wordless performance.
***
I’ll have to post my theses on their door.
They tell me it’s what I must do to halt the war.
I’ve been given a hammer, a nail and these maps –
the dupe of hidden arrangements, perhaps,
with no way of telling exactly what’s in store.
[Previous: The Third Nature]
[Next: My Nativity]