Archeio

The ground here is no ghost
or only a reflecting

arithmetic disclosure
makes a surer gift
than complaint of error

memory and speculating 
makes real worlds
away from hands
or sometimes sound

if visualising brought something
to existence then every cogitation thrives on planes
without expression on this one

the perverse wish desires
its substantiation

to make is only a partial arrival
of that wish

the remainder exists positively but flees us,
it becomes independent to my memory

what I have read has a short shelf life in my span of recall

So, if I could chock every thought and memory into some
unsensory place it would make a sprawling city, down to the cement dust

a census for what was once called abstraction
and a day journey ticket to the city to where all thought
and memory lives and do their daily filings and queueing

and the residual dwellers all pass through me, bid me hello

some even call my name to say I have left another self at home
and where could he be now that you have stayed the night.

And I become another thought to the homebody
who recalled me and wonders when I'll be back

his (or my) very thought giving me a visa to
 a city of cogitation and to the following destination

we still only share one voice he and I,
and all the other mes I have run into amongst
all thought and memory

so that when I utter

the surety of a thunderstorm arriving is sealed.