Now that I have achieved ‘learning’
Nearly graduated from a ‘school’
I have come to realize I understand nothing at all.
The understanding of understanding nothing
Is what they call ‘education.’
It is not the nothing, but the understanding of nothing
That makes a man ‘enlightened’
I want to show you myself. I want to bring you into a world
Of spinning glasses and crystal memories
Of amber shadows spinning in the dust
And papery old photographs with coffee stains from the beans’ dark roast
And the cedar chiffarobe relaxing in the corner
As I watch you saunter in
Glass in hand, loping through the eaves like a dangling envelope filled with stamps
And Renaissance paintings adorning the halls.
You’d remove your glasses and smile almost sadly
Only because you’d forgotten all but the melancholy smiles that we deceived the whole world with
And the disguise would peel away like an orange or a chestnut
In the wooden boxes on the table.
The crust, the mantel, the layers of cold stone
Would give way to the core of the matter. Living in the details
Resigning to infinity. Embracing the cosmos
From the row of corner windows in our library.
