Gratitude of a Perplexed Mystic

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GRATITUDE OF A PERPLEXED MYSTIC 


My inability to penetrate the cloud 

becomes, (if such absurd descent-


theology is true,) moot, considering 

it’s necessarily implied I’m writing 


this—yes this—within a mist. 

As is the case with dull Odysseus, 


my dog, a lack of clear

articulation isn’t near 


a detrimental handicap since

his ability to speak the name is less 


important than that he comes 

when spoken to. We’ve long 


ago established I can’t climb

my way out of this. Thanks for repelling in.


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