To resolve to read a book
the book being about Finnegan,
presumed by the title, a wake
or the tendency of an entire race
to rise against a circumstance.
To promise oneself to attend
to this grand derangement of
keenings, exclamations, coherent
only on the inside of a single soul.
To meet ambition with ambition.
To refuse to die unaccomplished
in the runny eye of a past professor.
All this importance of yesterday
freezes in an outdoor, pitiless
landscape of mid-January. On hold
cold promises, wishes, Finnegans.
Even the harmless intentions dissolve,
become the enemy warmth indoors,
the collection beneath an afghan.
This thinking reed’s stalled thought:
one can always think again.