march 28th: my intimate date with Robert Frost,
over jelly beans and my favorite poem:
mending wall,
where i myself am divided and composed into syllables,
preserved in poetic and pithy bookends:
something
(there is)
that doesn't
love a wall.
manbyman sidebyside
rockbyrock
the ethics of repair and the stones we replace:
lithos pebble boulder sand stone
in allegory, having once fallen,
begging a query into stone psychology:
was falling from the walling a destiny?
wallbuilding...wallrebuilding...
a stone's throw (quite seriously) from mr. neighbor:
mr. neighbor mr. boundary,
all pine to my all apple
i am no threat.
how can i seek to rebuild when
i seek only the stone in my hand?
i weigh the imaginary (psychopathic?) evidence
for keeping the stone in the mud at its own will,
as if boundaries actually work to wrench themselves down.
yes, yes.
before i built a wall -
my wall, or repaired one -
i'd ask to know what i was
walling in,
walling out,
to whom i was like to give offense
something there is
someone there is
someone: me.
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