Exaltation
every dog has its day…
Too deeply immersed in the book of life,
you lost your place on purpose,
making your way to an obscure paragraph
that ended with the blackest period.
You ogled each word like a blind lecher
picturing the perfectly contoured ass
of a fifteen year old jail sentence,
entangled in desire beyond the law.
A sudden explosion of understanding
knocked you back upon your heels.
Suddenly you knew without hesitation
Who Wrote The Book of Love and who
put the ram in the Rama Lama Ding Dong
and the completely obvious answers
to other inescapably arcane questions..
Clarity pulsed like escaping gamma rays.
The constraining text melted away.
You dove straight into the footnotes where
all meaning meant your own imaginings,
copulating with op cits, loc sits, et al,
frolicking like some demented otter
in a chaotic stream of random minutia,
happy to be loosed at last from
all the firmly corseted plots of others,
able to create your own fearless narrative
from the improbable bits and pieces
of your wildly beating heart,
pounding out rhythms of yes,
drowning out every dour no.
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