all the names
become known,
signifieds
are freeze-dried
and packed
into gelcaps—
until
nothing on the map
has not been identified,
no play
on upon the stage
of color and shadow
is left arcane
and uninterpreted.
With no coaxing at all,
we recall
some old verse line:
explanation, explanation
everywhere, and not a bit
that's fit to eat—
because now
we know (although not
from experience):
the flower
that splits the rocks
is poisonous.