Brilliantly Debilitated

They had promised this to themselves.
Bereft of choices, they felt empowered,
Only to be stopped short by plenitude.
Eventually, they gave up their nostalgia.
 
They entered an analytical landscape,
But there were significant omissions.
They tried art, only the frame confused them.
It always seemed too large or too small.
 
On the periphery, small creatures or birds
Flitted without revealing themselves.
They suspected an unseen reality
Like a bicycle hung from a rafter.
 
Symmetry, they knew, was one source,
But they gravitated toward disorder,
And it made them incredulous.
All these deaths became unreadable.
 
Ideology was a lyrical technology,
Leaving the text unsaid, unthought,
But present anyway, a sequence
Brilliantly debilitated. 

 

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