The past isn’t simple
One shouldn’t
Personify it
But Uncle History
Is necessary
He remembers
The Great Cat Massacre
And the gruesome music
Of emigration
And Isaac Newton
Nearly starving
Because he ate
Only fallen fruit
Sadness
Like vanity and fairytales
Can’t be forgotten
If the past had a mouth
He thinks
It would sound
Like lady Macbeth
Then: lets count backwards
As in the hospital
The day is dark
Its going to rain
He suspects Wallace Stevens
Saw Bishop Berkeley
In a light bulb—
Stevens was almost
Innocent
Mind over matter
Let the lamp affix its beam
Shine here…
Planet of the Blind 