What’s the polar opposite
Of Susanne Langer’s symbols,
The algebraic letters
Pure enough to see clear through
To all the numerical
Relationships they reveal,
The highest ‘transparency’
That language can attain? Poems,
Maybe, these muddiest waves,
Dirtiest ditches, darkest
Glasses, most tarnished mirrors.
We’re not trying to let you
Through, not trying to let you
Use our naked ghosts as gates
Into what you imagine
You’re capable of knowing
Anyway. Tarry pavements,
Wayside gravel will reflect
You the best by denying
There’s anything to see here,
Least of all the face of you,
And nothing of the other,
Magical, portal version
Of the world that’s just you, too.
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