On Reading a Blank Page

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I once sat on a plateau’s edge 
It began on my back, with updrafts. 
They rose along the white escarpment 

No relief, my eyes 
Could not grasp its on and on. 

I felt the filling of a sandwich: 
No mustard, no lettuce, just me. 

So I sat. Wind rustled up my shirt, 
Brushed my face, and snarled my hair. 
At least there was difference. 

“Young man. Yes. Please come in. 
This room with books and papers 
Overfilling chairs and couch 
Is my study. You can see I have 
A great light from the north 
Burning through that window. 
It makes words stand out from the page 
Like trees against a cliff. 

“So, yes. Please tell me about yourself? 
Why have you come from Utah 
To this town in Bolivia 
Where it seems the miners 
Are either on strike 
Or dancing in bejeweled 
Masks of the Devil and St. Michael? 
Please, please sit down. No, just move 
Those books off to the side. 
The maid will bring tea presently.

“Now, young man. Tell me, tell me 
All about yourself. It is not often 
Blond boys come to my door, 

“Especially not dressed in suits. 
Although I must confess you 
Could use a better tailor. 

“Tell me what brings you here 
So far from home like a 
Migrating butterfly. With that tie 
You could be a monarch. 
What brings you here 
So removed from the paths of your kind 
Like a blue and purple insect 
Blown by a hurricane 
From its flight path? 

“No, wait. Before you open those pamphlets, 
I know something that will break the ice. 
It is the best way to know someone 
Deeply and profoundly in a short time 
Yes. Young man. It will work 
Please, please tell me what vices you practice. 

“It is always best to know the dark things 
Of a man’s heart and mind 
In contradiction is light and truth.” 

How do I know a plane, 
When I sit and sit 
Where it breaks into space? 

I want to know it, but there are no stains, 
No tears, no rips in its reflecting surface. 
How do I make a map to return?

“I don’t get this reading. 
It makes my head hurt. 
Why can’t they write 
In simple English 
So everyone can understand! 

“I am a simple person. 
I do not plan to think 
Complex sentences. 
I am straightforward, 
Literal, and pragmatic. 

“What does he mean 
‘there is nothing but difference’? 
I mean you should just 
Say what you mean directly. 

“Life is a straight line from birth to death. 
If you just hold to that stainless steel 
You get to where there is no 
Contradiction and only peace. 

“I am tired of this prose. 
It goes nowhere. 
What does he want?” 

Like a winter fog, this gleaming plateau: 
If I drive into it, how do I know 
Another car in my lane won’t be going slow, 

And we’ll crash? Maybe one comes up fast 
Hits me in the rear and 
Throws me into another plane. 

I need perspective, 
I need to break the plane apart, 
To know its sleeves from its collar.

“No vice! Harrumph! Even one as young as you
Has had time to cultivate a vice or two. 
Maybe you think impure thoughts. Maybe 
You relieve tension in a burst 
Of shaking in the night. Maybe you like sports
Too much or maybe you hide in books. 
I think you must not 
Tell yourself the truth. Surely it is a pretense, 
This vicelessness of yours. You are like a poem
That speaks of love and passion but means 
Enmity and death. I must read 
Between your words to know who you are. 
You obviously do not know yourself. 

“You are a strange being, Mr. Blond Utahn. 
Your words make no sense. Life is to be filled 
With vice and pleasures before the long, 
Trackless plane of death.”