poetry = nonsense
nonsense = meaninglessness
meaninglessness = void
void = nothingness
nothingness = spirit

Amidst awkward doodles and abandoned sketches a few scribbled fragments hide the outline of a thought, embryonic shape of literary creature A sheet crumpled is found in sorting the thrill of a fleeting glimpse caught, a passion for letters rekindled, and Zen months and a sennite pass in the hollow pursuit of hollow men yearning to live on the lips of others In quiet study a man of privilege keeps atop antique gueridon, a small manuscript a curious work of unknown sources kept safe for eons from history's grip From mysterious ancient symbols the silhouette of a character emerges a peek of a mature personality begun with scribbles on a crumpled paper 9-V-2005

In memory of Heqanakht - a priest of Egypt's Middle Kingdom - about whom I'd know nothing but for the loving care of Carolyn, of the British Museum, whose path I am fortunate to have crossed.
Copyright © 2011 Erick Calder
All Rights Reserved
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