The sign post in orbit
The poet’s signs and symbols
form the infrastructure of the world.
What else have we?, the human being
wrought he singular and sighing,
but of what terror he interprets from
chaos and old night? Measureless
if finite, and spherical as the brain,
is this heaving stone that taunts us
’til we molested by our eyes
halve it with our hands disguised
in the vocabulary of gods long dead—
and neglectful strangers them
do us harm how lovers larger do.