Laid Bare

Macrocosm:
mud.
Microcosm:
quantum-tiny rivulets.

Large and dense:
or small with a propensity for what appears
irrationality
which seems to the imagining

and hopeful eye
to be a chum
of wanton fun.
But one

cannot deduce from wishes
what is is.
One can’t deduce from anything
too much.

I thought today I might make sense
of touch –
that backed-up tensions
might ejaculate,

be overcome.
But all I see is mud,
not rivulets.
And nothing

is the chum
of wanton fun.
Poems lay bare
all you dare

and almost all you don’t.
I asked this one
to help me out:
it won’t.




.