Sunday, June 16, 2013

On Reading Old Letters

I can't remember
how many friends I had
after I departed to Illinois.
It's true they were far away and
I enjoyed their affection
only through the mail
with its own kind of sensuosness.
The  tracings of pens and pencils,
dribblings and stains
informed me of bodies.
How much they professed missing me
and asked for my return.
To be asked when you are coming back
is one of the most touching endearments,
especially when you
have no intention to.
I should have felt beloved.
I thought I was superman in those days.
So kind and knowing.
Knowledge always precedes education.
Education only refines, adds patina,
gains you names, arguments,
but knowledge is constant.
I survive by inventing theories.


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