26 from Glare by Ammons

fracture the mirror and don’t ask me
what becomes of the world: the world

too is fractured but is still
unfractured and the mirror, now,

has no truth to see except its own
its own splits and deflections: it

loses touch with possible mystery
thinking (thinking?) it has found

some in obfuscation: it’s a mystery
tho that obfuscation can show how the

world really is beyond its simplicity:
I reject the North because it is not

my native ground, and I reject the
South because it rejected me, and I

reject European clutterment because
we fought to put that ocean between

us: I identify with no sort or kind:
I am by myself: with me is the

thinking up and writing of this poem:
I am for the poem: it tells me who

I am: as the poem becomes itself,
so, I hope, do I: it is sad and

simple, yet true: if anyone loved
me, or if I loved, I would be loving,

I would not be writing: I have not
found anyway yet to be what I want

to be: I’m looking: I’m writing as
hard as I can: did you ever hear

anything so pretentious: I tell you
the defensive can come on as stilted

and askew as a peering, preying mantis: shows have
put me up so high my hardest thing

(!) is to get down where I am, and
there are leagues below where I am

to relish: but it’s not my feelings
but how I can change them, is it?,

to bring about the same changes in
you: not that you don’t have your

own feelings: but you are, as I am
like a moray eel, sticking out only

a little: however fine the eatery,
the scullery’s behind a door:

heads or tails: ups or
downs: tops or bottoms: heads and

tails: ups and downs: tops and

                         Thank Goodness

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