The people have learned to be
suspect of fearless men who wander on
the outside, observing the acts of the city.
“ I am a pertinent ass, people , “ he
says. “ I do not fear what I perceive. Those
cylindrical buildings, those old universities,
those hepatic planes, those gliding ships,
that sky, that sun, that universe; why
should I fear these things? The only thing I
fear is your natures when I perceive them
rightly. But even that I share with you.
He thinks, “ I am fearless but can not
sing the joy I have at the feeling.”
And women prefer moneyed men to
fearless men. And women are driven by
the weight of the culture rather than its
aspiration.
Ah, a happy time is about to descend
on the poet and he steady’s himself.
Happiness drives out the need to express
himself but the failure to express himself
makes him unhappy.
He writes the gargantuan petals of a
flower he has seen in the kitchen of a
woman who tells him he reads too much.
Lingering associations connect the woman
and an object she holds behind the flower.
He writes though the background noise of
news commercials and an official who tells
everyone to stay indoors. He writes
thinking of the rays of Anthers.
© 2001 David Eide. All rights reserved.