And so I rise and will not fall again.
Not for solitude and its visitors or the enthusiastic
Travelers who refuse brooding. I won’t be folded into
The mixture of wisdoms that have supplanted sense
Or those invented religions that have annexed the countries
Of the soul; the vanity of animated shells will not cover
Me and smothering in analogue comfort will not be done.
My store will be lightened of unnecessary items and no
More will be bought with credit’s length or money’s tongue.
I will refuse the ever present impulse that teases my
Resolve and beat its signal back; the lull of silence
Will not lure me into ruination nor a babbling mouth
Cast out my worth unduly; my actions will not
Come back to haunt me or my house and I
Will rise again tomorrow to the same.
I will rise this way and will not fall for
Those known or the undiscovered others yet to be;
The ill met will not better me or the intended enemy.
Neither my nearest friend or extended acquaintance shall
Make me incapable and family hanging from the sore thorns
Of my tree will not block my advancing path. All the soldiers of the
State, and its disgrace, prostrated nose to tail, or in the flailing
Rapture of their service, shall not herd me into their corral for my
Man management, and the lesser messengers and lost apostles, in awe
Of bosses, who attempt an adulator’s cause, will find no reward at
The ends of my strength. All images and sketches, television’s
Edges, staged and improvised performances; all commissions
And enforced renditions, all coarse labour and fine art will fail
To part me from my feet, or fill my seat with soil, for I
Will only fall for one, and that is thee my son.