Tehom

One recent philosopher

Opined meaning’s what something

Is about, it’s aboutness,

But that seems wrong, since as soon

As you take a simple term,

Common word, some kind of name,

Even one—not a sentence,

A poem, an aphorism,

An elegant equation,

Not so much as a fragment,

Just one term, one word, one name—

And explain what it’s about,

You’ve both enlarged and blurred it,

Like someone writing over

A message written in steam.

When someone gets their message

Well-posed, composed exactly

To maximize its meaning,

Its potential for meanings

To attach themselves to it,

Hanging on to all at once,

It’s never about something,

Just a hard bump in dark waves,

The poem of one word, one term.