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Sometimes you wonder if another, blue reality of you
exists in some dimension utterly unshorn and un-bespectacled,
near-sighted, smelling like an animal, but not forlorn –
silent, unattended, fed and watered by an unseen hand –
all the data you are now allowed to intersect
with every aspect of itself without remanding you to hell –
instead a kind of grand slow evolution into something like
an answer – swelling literally into under-standing, where you find
yourself beneath, and looking up, and knowing what was going on.
Today, all huddled on a New York City sidewalk,
was a man who either long ago had stopped his meds –
or who had found another, blue reality in which he sat
silent, unattended, fed and watered by an unseen hand –
all the data he had been allowed to intersect
with every aspect of itself without remanding him to hell –
instead a kind of grand slow evolution into something like
an answer – swelling literally into under-standing, where he found
himself beneath, and looking up, and knowing what was going on.
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