Steps (1995/1998) from his Collected Poems (2009) Where do we find ourselves? What is this tale With no beginning and no end? We know not the extremes. Perhaps There are none. Weare on a kind of stair. The world below Will never be regained; was never there Perhaps. And yet it seems We've climbed to where we are With diligence, as if told long ago How high the highest rung. Alas: this lethargy at noon, This interfered-with air. -- p2: defenestrate --

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