III - At Times it Disturbs

at times it disturbs me to realize that the writer's craft is full of tricks
learning to write is learning to handle tricks
and genius the invention
                             of its own tricks

 

how^can we speak

of the poet's sacred mission

or nonsense of that kind?

 

art is artifice

 

soon after writing these lines

like a sudden miracle

I notice with amazement that the sun       like a magician      who amuses himself starts to play with the reflections of my pen

casting circles of light on the shadow of the wall

that swell and diminish       close and open drawing spirals

of rainbow

reflections

 

as if suddenly the spectral tail of a peacock had appeared

 

to mock me suggesting ironically that the sun is a magician playing tricks