life is nothing
but an exercise in reading
an effort to find
music in the prosaic
the alliteration of the landscape
the enjambments of daily
interactions and the metonymic
semiotics of perception
i like to dwell where
image confronts thought
where consciousness
encounters the real
as language
as poetry
or even as prose
perhaps it’s foolish but
i often wonder
if i encounter or even
inhabit the same world you do
surely we have learned different
lessons in the reading of reality
i tend to inhabit the meta-
elements of the construct
deconstructing the discursive
for me the beauty is in the
finding of the façade
the act of translating five senses
into the language of thought
and then interpreting that language
into the content of our consciousness
into the shaping of understanding
and the making of memory
not only mediates the objective
it is the objective
poets long ago wrote of how we half-create
the scenes we experience
of how we even though
we look upon the same tree
i doubt we see the same tree