The Father of the Predicaments

    He came at night to each of us asleep

    And trained us in the virtues we most lacked.

    Me he admonished to return his stare

    Correctly， without fear.  Unless I could，

    Unblinking， more and more incline

    Toward a deep unblinkingness of his，

    He would not let me rest.  Outside

    In the dark of the world， at the foot

    Of the library steps， there lurked

    A Mercury of rust， its cab half-lit.

    （Two worldly forms who huddled there

    Knew what they meant.  I had no business

    With the things they knew.  Nor did I feel myself

    Drawn back through Circulation into Reference，

    Until I saw how blue I had become， by virtue

    Of its five TVs， their monitors abuzz with is's

    Etymologies……）