A Series of Fairly Simple Declarative Sentences in an Old Grocery Store, St. George, 11 October 2016

In Maine, in January, 1940, one declared, "There isn't any thought
Or idea which can't be expressed in a fairly simple declarative sentence."
He was complaining about the "rhetorical secrecy" of the tax code,
But he could as well have been discussing poetry (which he did,
In an earlier essay, much too diffidently or mock-diffidently at least).
When one has no thoughts or ideas, of course, one remains hesitant
To declare so. I declare, I was just about tapped out myself
When I caught myself mumbling in a seminar held in a cavern
That used to be the frozen food section of a suburban grocery
Something about genetics and mind I'd written, mind you,
More than a dozen years before. As the mumbling continued
I descended into the secret rhetoric of internal thanatos
And imagined I was flying clear over the whole coded world,
Nothing more to study, nothing to interpret, nor remember, nor declare.