The Idea

At any given moment
one may see it at work.
The shimmering echo of thought
writing cursive through the
embryonic sack.
Purged of simple science
something much more &#fb02;avorful.
A truth, neglected in the absence
or drought of nourishment
collecting at the base of
the question.
Because we dream
not in words, but through light
imposed upon the darkness of sleep
the idea, or all ideas, taken in a form
not read, but seen.
Colliding logics
of present and past
divisible by the sum of congruent futures.
We easily dream hollywood
and drink from Hepburn’s glass
always forgetting our roles:
to watch, listen and calculate
as the arbiters of culture.
Remodeling logos into a picture
no matter of what, any will do,
held high above steeples
and bars, theaters and bookshops,
schools and gas stations,
teaching the Idea
untethered by word
and free to arouse all but the blind.

Miles Joris-Peyra&#fb01;tte