The Mind of Ben Wesley #3: if i could be candid for a minute
real slugboi hours who up
Imagine, if you will,
That this night is the seed
From which the earth will soon suffer great rupturing roots.
For such it ever was and must be:
Men, bearish and odd, sipping coffee and beer,
Endowing simple carpentry of common wood
With perpetual dignity,
Imputed through the baptism
Of condensation and spill-stains.
Imagine — if you must.
For what else may infuse this night
With its peculiar magic?
The table-maker, who sleeps as we talk here,
Knows what he has done
And will rise to continue his work tomorrow.
That this night is the seed
From which the earth will soon suffer great rupturing roots.
For such it ever was and must be:
Men, bearish and odd, sipping coffee and beer,
Endowing simple carpentry of common wood
With perpetual dignity,
Imputed through the baptism
Of condensation and spill-stains.
Imagine — if you must.
For what else may infuse this night
With its peculiar magic?
The table-maker, who sleeps as we talk here,
Knows what he has done
And will rise to continue his work tomorrow.
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