While Riding Bareback in the Next Dimension
                             Copyright Jonathan Marcus 1998
 
 

 
It comes at you obliquely
hits a thin bull’s eye
turned sideways to your sight

   it’s esoteric
   only when
   you don’t already know it

these arrows-from-elsewhere
fly through your mind
like gamma rays through the earth’s core

   they’re the midwives of cell division
   if you knew their flight
   you’d learn to be in labor

but these darts aren’t so flighty
they’re not just words on a page
they’re deliciously organic

   take aim with the crossbow
   only from an open gallop
   will moving targets be hit

the best of sex
is what it does
to your brain

   the best of attention
   is what it does
   to your universe

the best description
of a work of art
is the work itself

   the succulence of literature
   hovers at the edge of experience
   and stretches it, like yoga

bits of knowledge seem so discrete
but wisdom is a fluency of separations
and what’s new is always surprising

   if you want to be young
   go the future, unformed
   where the young always live

say hello to a coltish universe
of thunder hooves and twisting mane
hang on for the ride and keep your wits

   life is the perpetual motion machine
   it pays more than it costs
   and it’s more than the sum of its parts

the rule of habit spews boredom
the rule of will spawns surprise
and here, the threshold of freedom

  who is the architect of these rooms?
  where are the plans? Where is the door?
  who’s in charge of the renovation?

conserve your angst – it pushes you
and conserve your desire – it pulls
by both propulsions may you stick the target

   the young stallion roars and gallops still
   through thickets of magic arrows
   on hooves that ring the sky

         pay attention / with abandon

         and you may ride some more

 

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