My dreams do not optimize.
Each wish made manifest
by the image's images
does that most cliche thing,
following the heart.
You've heard it in other words:
wisdom is not wistful.
Good knowledge does not prowl
because it sees its boundaries
never a bit foul.
The bad chases good
because it becomes sad
under difficult clouds.
Sad crashes after enough gray
stones the face that can no
longer stay.
I have become warm
with snow-scratched
mountain-top sun.
I am stunned until I defrost
inhabiting a first-personal narrative
that continues to refuse
to continue to refuse.
Roman Ryan 