Of you and me, which is grammar? Who context? One swims the other, like angled fish and water; perception and thought; yearning and regret; or, as schismatics claim, 'regret and yearning.' You subject my predicate to censure, for you doubt my verb. But I doubt the rules: my drift goes deeper than mere convention. This is anarchy without the chaos, the harmony of a heart's unfettered syntax found in unaccustomed syncopy. Though mysterious, it's not obscure. I understand, I know this idiom; but I decline to translate, not from apprehension of an inappropriate declension; but, knowing how inexpressible this expression, I choke on broken voice and turgid words and rely on you inferring what I imply.
You'll just have to transform this poem to glean my meaning. There you have it.
2009
|