In this labyrinth I’m as devoted as the
chain saw brick a back or the cold flat stone of a white marble tomb.
You glance, encapsulating the secret
into the same old compartment of eternity.
A delusion of modernity with a side of something sweet, like pride.
Essence rising in the air like a spirit from the past you happen to be very familiar with ..
Entrenched, you deny reality. You cancel the transaction and put them as if before a fact.
Like in the middle of the act
where a hat gone mad or a hatter has gone madder, still
engaged, you are still part of society. And must make the mundane concession.
Of putting on your pants
and tie
and suit
and hat.
And all other kinds of things like that.