Wikipedia Poem, No. 465

“Sweet Love of youth, forgive, if I forget thee, / While the world’s tide is bearing me along; / Other desires and other hopes beset me, / Hopes which obscure, but cannot do thee wrong!” Emily Brontë

there's no time to   explain there's no           
dazzle in          order to wrestle among its   
ants ants ants ants ants ants ants ants ants      
to say       not           better in the christian sense 
the jain sits under a tree in        order to wrestle 
among its    ants ants ants     
crawl          up his perfect warmth even if           
i feel no such warmth       for the gourmand           
for the essentialist        for the part of me which insists upon 
treating others with          respect 
as productive as an ant productive

         this is    the         earth's horizon — 
handsy        in control       touchy-feely frightening 
the jain     it is being in its essential parthood
i insist upon treating others with respect
as productive as          a thing being   only eyes   the thing
even if i or it feel no such warmth           for this eye 
i         feel no such      warmth   for the same     tree 
or ant in order to wrestle among
among      its ants ants ants ants