Someone, I cannot remember who, suggested
to me that I write the story of the world,
not that the world needs another edition,
but perhaps because it would occupy me
and I’d stop sharing my poetry that so few
really want to read and do so out of politeness.
I thought about this and it is an intriguing project,
for I would write the world as I see it, and
perhaps at least a bit as I wish it to be.
That may sound disingenuous, but honestly
isn’t that what politicians have done
at least since the Greeks invented them,
and what’s the harm since anyone who
bothers to read my work will view it
through their own lens and it would become,
at least a bit as they wish it to be.
But perhaps not because the circular
logic of it all seems to give me vertigo.