TO FREUD

Unmasked thoughts
are often not unalloyed
ideas keep repeating
in my mind
places, spaces,
accents and traces
as taut fears placating me
in kind,
dear Dr. Freud,
where do I go
to cope or ask
when everything
is division
and needing
to be assured,
in berating woman
and mankind,
here on a cold stuffed sofa
caught by my own
contrary derision
yet here in Vienna
you are marked
in a commentary
with an antenna
reaching out to those
hopelessly annoyed
by ways
of constant competition
within your own visionary soul
even after we fairly
realize our void
life has but a short chance
with a for instance of miracle
only in philosophical precision
as sex and death,
you tell us in your text
within all our hallucinations
among the accidents and ancients
ultimate understanding
is our goal.