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XXXIV

forgive me my soi-disant regression

and trifling transgressions.

humanity and imperfection are synonymous,

and, i understand, ubiquitous

i am no fool in my naivete to believe

you are some Appolonian exception



history, our great equalizer

(which you nor i can shake

-nor smooth the dented print its weight

has left in the impressionable vulnerability of our brains

-nor fold the page to obscure

its burned word)



we continue to wait for

its influence to abate, no more productive

than the

man on the moon



i contend the same for you

no skewed views, but no excuse.

here is the proclamation of my sanity

here is the admission of my irrationality





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