NARRATIVE

"Oh blessed rage for order, pale Ramon"--Stevens

My story spinning out,
A blind man's cane clicking
In the darkness of Plato's cave.

The story beguiling,
Justifying whatever propelling impulse
It follows a half a step behind:
Slime in the snail's wake,
Effluvium forming ever novel
Combinations from the
Mountain of yesterday's shit.

All this to both create and soothe
My-- "but I had to do it"-- defense.