Thursday, August 11, 2022


Would it be somehow more 
or less disconcerting 
to see

that there is no 
one reality 
which undergirds the scene? 

Take, for instance, the dimly lit room 
where once, we 
sat all night, arguing—

slinging gold rings, 
tacking up tents, and drawing with chalk
down the center of the thing.

How painfully small 
it seemed to me then; 

how crammed 
with stale baggage and flooded 
with shame. 

Then again, there could have been 
much more space around us
than we realized; 

that stifling room's true size
might just have been infinite—

although then, one must imagine, 
so too would've been 
the elephant.