Numerous vastnesses
but then
a question of belonging—
who owns these dreams?
Is it some fin de siècle
philosophe in some
pale primitive Pageant?
Things linger to be told.

2.
I ask because I am asked.
“All my iniquities
array themselves before me,
choose me, choose me,
they cry, each
claiming to be the sin
for which this life is punishment.
Though it so seems life’s reward.”
In eternity the numbers take sides.
“I still remember the man I thought was me.”

3.
Carry on. Anachronism
is our friend.
Give Caesar a steel cuirass,
change history by forgetting,
Get things wrong!
Our only safeguard in this Chronocracy!
Rule time or succumb to it.

3 July 2020