To Think That None of Those Things I Heard in Travelling Were True

A tour of the solar system
reveals not even one white horse
standing still under a willow tree,
not even one man who remembers me,
and perhaps it is time I fell with the leaves
that are not of any tree.
From where I stand on the soft cliffs
of this night I see a fire on a wall
and a man singing into it;
there will I go and assume a name
in the world of illusions
buckling the ribs like a sword
around my soul.
I will be seen again,
loved, hated, and forgotten again.
All these years past I have drifted,
awakening several children sleeping
in far places,
yet I have not found the hand
into which all rivers run their course;
and what is there to say
that the grassless night does not say better
and longer?
Now perhaps
it will all count
for something.

Poem taken from the chap book Strange Attractors. First edition July 1993. 200 issues. Co-producer: Mark Stueve of Old Erie Street Bookstore Cleveland, Ohio. Front cover art by Harland Ristau. Lettering by Big Web. Back cover art by Dan Nielsen. Text artwork by t.l. & Carolyn Kryss & Hilary Krzywkowsk. Co-edited by Mark Weber & Mark Stueve. Photo of t.l.kryss by mark weber 18may89. (c)1993 by Zerx Press & t.l. kryss, 5016 Inspiration Dr, SE, Albuquerque, New Mexico 87108