The Ghent Review Volume1, Number 1, summer 2016 | Page 51

sees it as I do. Do. Affirm the affirmations. Nor decry the dark for its
necessity (of this there will be singing) Now what will you accuse me of ye
doubting ones?
It does not matter.
Song along justifies me in my time and time beyond. And unto time. Nor can
it otherwise be. For be it will be. The light measured in the scale of a word.
Nor my thoughts alien to this day.
This day. Yes, I am a profane believer who would not otherwise be. See me –
I am dancing, hear me – I am singing.
As it was in the beginning so shall it now be. Thus I undo to remake. Thus.
And shall further undo (see me undoing and re-making) This street or that –
what does it matter – it is my infinity which waits (ah my sweet arrogance
how I love thee!) And whatever else awaits shall make itself known.
This street or that – neither will change my destination for I have already
chosen. Shall make itself known and I will make it known. Bending it to my
desires. Like a loom-worker – stitch, counter-stitch and shall populate my
pages accordingly. Affirmation and negation which shall be, and is, my
affirmation (do you hear me now my doubters?) And that unbending branch
I shall take as my symbol. That unto me and mine…
An inheritance. Heirloom for the generations (ah my sweet arrogance how I
love thee!) Give myself a new name which will be the ancient name. Lyrical
and bountiful (old warriors I will take, and add, from your warrior-strength
such strength as I may need) Nor will culpability pass my lips. As I take the
measure of these shadows I walk amongst and out of.

-This obsession with identity
-It is the only one worth having
-Spoken like a true egoist
-A condemnation?