I Who Cannot Be the One
(for the only true is more than two)
I who cannot be the one, who born from
two and sees sight as fun.
No one talks of swifter hums,
than the boy with no friends,
who must only run.
Not solitude does he run from away,
but the unknown missed when he did not stay.
Awake your dreams to find reality less
of meaning, and the wild bountiful
sleeves, of your mistress or boy in jeans.
Teems of them, ride past and out of sight,
and so many that are one or the same right,
But I who cannot follow down, the strain,
to feelings unknown and alone.
There is no cause or effect, mere events
witnessed from frail to wreaked,
and the one who sits and thinks of time,
instead of what next word would rhyme,
and pick a side, the one with more might,
But always must we choose,
between one or of two,
and hope that our one,
is the one that is true.
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Image of Vandyke Brown print and its hand-drawn negative, before and after.
Test print of Droplet Frieze Pattern 1, 2016. (Digital Photograph)