Is that a groin? The doctor was kind
but insistent keeping the shuttle in motion
until the thread ran out. Show me the right tree
and I’ll bark up it, I said. But first remove these,
your minions, from the walkway
and breezeway. In a flash, it was done. The discovery
was finished. Then gentle it some more
until the commas fall in place, he urged.
Once more I was on the right trail, though indistinctness
was on the agenda. What about the right to vote for others,
I pressed. Just what is it
that makes them so delicious?
 
For a while the castes kept their distance.
The mighty shuffled to another section of the parterre.
Their macaronic self-absorption prevailed.
Soon it was time to choose another climate.
We all bathed willingly. The diving bell came apart at the seams.
And you know what? For a long time afterward, the world grew chipper,
offering samples of itself to every comer.
That’s why I was so late.
It takes a long time to choose
when you’re not ready. Even longer when you are.
You know this better than anyone, myself included.