Jon Hamnett
Tasseograph
There is a certain
Olympian effort involved
In the giving of counsel to you.
To ignore, to steer around
The skeletal smirk
Beneath the skin of every living being.
And yet to burnish your whim
Is to obscure only further
The hand-me-down visions that you were given:
Like two brothers with
Only one eye between them
Blind to what's there
And in thrall to the ghosts
Which tousle your hair in their passing.
What voice, in pianissimo, distracts you as we talk?
I wish there were a lever
Most of all just when I catch you
In that childish resignation you affect
Looking for the answer
In the scum at the bottom of your empty cup
Fidgeting, fucking around with the salt shaker
Not wanting to look up, or out.
You are already hugely disappointed
With what you might find.
Page(s) 32
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