Wait. The unexpected mercy, a small one,
But still to be doubly valued, for being a mercy
And for being unexpected. Consider, carefully,
Imaginary reader of these torn, partially
Dislocated phrases, how many times
Can you remember being surprised that were
Not in the form of a sudden misfortune? You see?
I’m not sharing my happy small surprise with you,
The coincidence that correlated snugly
Enough to pass for causation, that caused me,
Then, to pause in Bonner’s Ferry to get the job
Done. It doesn’t matter to these lines anyway
Why it was a mercy for old animal me. What
Matters is that you imagine, that you free
The torrent of images and language, as language
Within your own awareness as you stumble
Over this damned peculiar excuse for a song.
Think very carefully and articulate, if you please,
The moments when you turned a corner
Into such unexpected convenience you felt
Blessed. Can you lift the mist on any of your bliss?
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