Sunday, October 23, 2022

The Daily Commute

The guard at the door
     between sleep and waking
Will acknowledge you, if you'll 
(Though even Google won't 
     give his name),

But it's a hard lock
     at the gate,
Top secret what goes 
     on there,
Save some fragment

Teaching Assignments 
     to chew on
In the waking hours,
     in those moments
When the veil's still
     full of holes.

The moment you pass sleep's
What went on there
     is over,
Whatever cities 
    you've toured,

Whatever heights 
    you've scaled,
Whatever plans
    made for you
In waking hours
    to execute

Go through without the glitch
    of your knowing,
They are like sand 
    collapsing instantly 
Except as anamnestic

There are no rules up there 
    as rule us here
(The part where I ink
    what disappears).
Too much impossible 
    for the veil 

Not to be kept taut
    by this slave
Who kindly waits
    for my word
To go back to what I know,
   who I am.