Ask anyone with wheels.
For who would stay with perfect attention,
for who deems perfection, who strives ever & ever, who?
A glass shelved etagere for tacky souvenirs,
A stack of sent postcards with canceled stamps from elsewhere,
each with its cursive wish, whish, wish: tides of wish
& wonder better than bulletins from the front.
Who was the child battled over & laid before
the plow-blade to divide the mother from the fraud?
Who was the mythic man following the boulder
down the hill, gathering energy like a pendulum?
He may think he chooses his role in perpetuity;
the boulder has greater agency.
Guess & guess again. It’s right to be wrong. Guess
& guess again. You can learn even if you can’t
be beautiful again. Where are you in the drama?
You claim center, even as the lines
are audible off-stage.