The proverb for all things

Or: Assuming the ancestors

You, I name the golem this, the first of this
series I claim as a facsimile to serve me.
Renounce pronouns and sink into my infinite body.
No animal said he failed whole for fifty years.
What the fleet-footed know we don’t, and
dread what the knowing of animals does.

I gave you a brain, and filters for it,
and landmarks you only have to delve in.
Poor body, my most secret of things
I made lonesome in the night I made for
boredom, I test you for life you must pretend.

What is that, I’ve sold the name of it
on the corner of your being and your end,
have scrawled it in plain letters, young man.
By the bind of time I’ve given nervousness
its hold on you, short as all things are.

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~ by Jeremy on June 8, 2012.

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