IGNORANCE

IGNORANCE

Ricardo Antonio Garcia

In the hollow of the night

women who had souls amidst

conjectured detection of who I was

by the very ferry crossing

against the morning of dawn.

Shakespeare’s aura hung in the closet

and you wondered

who was the person that I was.

Police battered down the door

and take account

for the heads they smash

for the literacy

of these tribunal acts are heresy,

I wake from bed for I cannot sleep

as angels and God

poke at me to wake suddenly

and these things I do see.

My Mothers dog

is dying and in her anguish

the animal became

more human than not as the night.

I awake to these terminal winds

and the description

confounds me to say that the midst

is watered down from these heresies.

The travesty

of genius is to know too much, for

building bridges

over the crowd they will never see.

I adjust

to these liberties for by God I shall awake

to never sleep again, what say Mother?

Dying

is not my best memory of a sorted life.

Shifting like the sands

not the Egyptian desert holds water

under this veil

scratching for Souls that linked to my own

I was never fated to have known.

I will hang the suit

of Shakespeare skin on my body

for in these disguises we thrust onward.

I could have been the musician

or the painter

that I thought my destiny would contain.

How sorrowfully wrong these gauges

forecast the illusion

and not the merit of the man.

Perhaps ignorance knows better.