In Which No Niceties Appear

You are not your stream of thought—
You’re obstacles and eddies
Around them spun within it.

This is something of a lie,
But so are you, so is all
Naming and conversation

However vivid the talk,
More so when most beautiful,
Curls on the lips of your waves.

Come to find nothing is full
Of weight that draws down the waves,
So what? Cut the mind in two,

You won’t get words or ideas.
The mind’s a weirder substance.
It can be scattered, not cut.

It seeks to explain itself
In oxbows when it’s the falls
As well, and the whole goddamned

Hydrological cycle.
The only thing a river
Has in common with the mind

Is the shared nature of waves
And as for that, rocks and stars
Are all wavering as well.