--for Joe Hutchison, master sleuth
For years, I’d been trying
To trace the poem’s origins
And had come up against a blank
Wall every time: Where
Had I seen it before?
.
It must have been somewhere
In the recesses of what passes
Plausibly as my mind but the more
I looked, the less I saw
Until I saw nothing and then
I saw there was no need
Of any further investigation—
I had stolen the poem
From myself.
Nicely parsed, Vassilis—or parried? I'm at a loss (again) for words. Thanks!
ReplyDeleteMy pleasure, Joe; who knows? Maybe I will come back to this poem one day and steal it away!
ReplyDelete