There Is No Room For Experience Poem by Marc Antony

One day appeared to me
an ancient wizard
his cardboard mouth
had the corners folded down
like pages in a book.

He looked me down and up
and tapped my knee
with his old walking stick
and said:
I'm not carrying much just
general knowledge

I masticated these words for a while and
fumbled for a appropriate response
finding none
my voice asked him:
Why do you live in the country?

Because in the city there is glass

he coughed
his cough an exclamation mark

Having lived all my life in the city
I found it hard
to imagine a world without glass

I was thinking about a house with no windows
and the wizard seemed able to scan my mind
when he said:
There is no room in a house for experience

Which is strange as there is a room for living.