But then I thought: no

“He had come all this way to discover that adventure is not life; that the finest scenes and the grandest mountains do not of themselves make poetry; and that at the farthest reach of his journey the familiar spectre of his own impotent bewilderment stood facing him.” p. 208, John Keats: The Making of a Poet, Aileen Ward


I thought of strolling
to a Cineplex on this
thick indiscriminate
pale swill of an un-thrilling
cloudy day to see a Pixar
movie: thought
expensive greasy

popcorn and a spectrum
of effects too dazzling
to reject amid a roiling
posse of Manhattan
children might dispel
all inward, outward
fog and plug me into

my swift silly city
in some unsuspected
way. But then I thought:
no; I refuse to stray –
I won’t dismiss this thing.
The emptiness is far
too interesting.

.