Homage to Pessoa
(for Taleb Alrefai)
The sheep of all ages once told me
they offered themselves without resistance
to the slaughter of our imaginations.
It was always so.
Men they said were not to be trusted
in themselves, but in what they felt
first on awakening, there was
a seed of hope.
If only that were not drowned they opined
by the dark substance of the vast
quotidian, all would be well –
but was not.
So to the slaughter we go, they averred
with profound regret, hoping against the wind
for another soul to arise, the new