You entrench me in
All feigned spires of insight,
Seeking blissfulness

An idealist
Embracing denigration
As a means to growth,

Someone expressing
The incomprehensible
With droll opinions,

A portend shining
Through cracks of woven branches -
In birch bark baskets -

The dissector of
Byron and ancient language
Scattered and weeping,

A treasure hunter
Scraping the bones of Rimbaud
With esteemed insights --

Why should you revere
The hidden meaning of words,
Never to breathe life,

Never to embrace
The moment of YOUR glories,
(With verve suspended)

Pretending to be
The shadow of someone dead,
Projecting the corpse

Of another time
When men sought thunder from gods
On watch-fires and thrones?

richard lloyd cederberg
        richardlloydcederberg