IN MY ARCHIVES

In my archives
small teeth of words

bite years of experiments
with language fragrances

partitions of proverbs
fragments of alphabet soup

with celery sticks
and oyster crackers

with my joy knowing others
discombobulated by life

will have a rooted communion
drinking in my globular ideas

reaching into my Kultur files
and spells to know more

than any  abandoned exile
or rosetta stone prophet

than a moment
before your flight

before you are translated
in a return of wisdom literature.