parachutes and pens, bowler hats and belts
these are our symbols, watch them mean
mysterious to whomever spies on us
ambiguous; to bring analyses hundredfold
breeds pathetick arguments pertaining to
precious, altogether perfect, brimming
hands and books
light and weight, lay and wait
these are our metaphors, see their wavelengths
a weapon, a curse, a turning of the tables
and how utterly beautiful is it that no one
will ever understand them

-c.j.