A Page From My Book Poem by Procyon Mukherjee

After Gregory Pardlo





Before the Dog, it rises to announce

The brightness, composed

Like the skyline of competing visions

With Spinoza, preparing Ethica, amidst declining rabble



Of motley habits and reason

The pursuit moved on

From Eroica to the Rite of Spring

Or Machu Picchu, maybe just "It"

Some words from ordinary living

Did the rest from Thousand Years

Or was it Grandma's remains of a cake, leaving a brooding mind

Wander into Ideas of justice, Pareto optimality?



The ridges left the briar

Each to its own kingdom

The silent acceptance of self-doubt

Gathers in the mist of mindful habit

Of all the people that made it to my page, I went missing

Searching for that unmistakable quibble



Absolute, let it wait

Till the reversion will come raging unannounced

The ascent of plain thought

When rational substance touch the aegis of being

Look winsome



My page is soaked with words

From another age

Not spiteful, incomplete, like

The innuendo caught amidst hope and laughter

Or a toast about to be raised for that invaluable tempo in Egmont

Mostly unfinished poems remain

And some note less bars