I don’t know the crux of my Kantian space,
But I know I’m waiting, a dire supplication,
A meridian solace, but I’m waiting. When you
Saw that tall man peering down on me under
That infertile, black coconut tree, you’d told me:
‘Be humble son’…he did cross your path,
But you crossed his too…I’d spelled my…
My wonder! I did cross his path,
But I’m waiting, still waiting, I still
Say my name loud, but look around for you.
I’m still waiting but for what, Hume will tell me.
I’d gone to church but the pallid brothers showed,
Told me I burned down my hut and came to theirs.
You’d warned me against the artic brothers’ ways.
“Come for the right way, come to the light” they’d said.
Platonic allegory appealed to me…
Now going to church is a tall man’s pace,
I’m too short and you know that…I just miss
What you told me…say your name loud!
I’m still waiting, perhaps you’re waiting too.
But you’d tutored me enough not to complain,
The world is a neat sadness as you’d said,
But I want you to stand in that snowy garment they
Always told me you wear now, and say out loud,
That I’d not gone astray. That confused man
Upstairs perhaps wasn’t sure of his job description
When he lied about the free will, can you tell him
He’s malevolent like the eastern brothers?
I’m not complaining, I just don’t like the man
Upstairs, and I don’t know what to make of the
Throng down stairs, but I do know behind that
Impressive unimaginable, you smile magnificently
And yell: “Say your name loud!”
With those words, I’ll wipe them off now, and
Say my name loud.
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