I am of unknown origin. I am not the beast
Who articulates me, works my strings. I am
What the beast who harbors me thinks best
To say, today. My main objection to this
Manipulation is that, although the beast lives
And is forceful and has all the brains, I know
Hundreds of years, maybe thousands, lie
Between us. I am older, so much older than
Him. One suggestion is that I come down
From the Anglo-French term, escoundre,
To hide, to hide oneself. My ancestors,
Nonetheless, remain in hiding. More ancient
Suggestions hint at the mating of place
And together, to hide away together. To me
That seems more like something belonging
To the ancestors of my beast, not to me.
My ancestors never fossilized, nor will I.
No, I am lying. That last prediction is a lie.
No comments:
Post a Comment