The Sage is short and compose of circles.
Flattened circles, not ovular.
A roundness that is not portly nor lean
Just round, simply circular, simply his shape.

The Sage speaks with contrasting sharpness,
A voice angular, particularly his laugh. Cacklingly
Angular. Unexpected laughs seem demonic.
But The Sage is wise and sometimes even holy.

The Sage talks about fuel to push young artists.
Graduate schools, challenges, gasoline to blaze and extinguish.
I consider the role of Serious Artist, capitalization so telling
And am curious if that is me, if it could ever be.

The Sage knows but wants me to search
He knows but isn’t telling
You’ll have to wait, the Sage says.
I’ll show you, soon, when you stop searching so hard.