Page 57 - ns2026
P. 57
Lord Pithy
Luke De Jager
Lord Pithy arose
and struck me down with one word. “Again,” He said, pointing and huffing.
And so I went again, but He prevailed each time.
He is heft in a swoon of genius, praised by the understanders of “good;” He says less than me, but always more.
And I will never be Him because He has existed around and before and after me, but never, at the same time,
has He existed with my vision.
So Lord Pithy piped up, expending agains, penetrating my ego with their effectiveness, reminding me, again, why He is Lord.
And so I shall go again:
“They don’t even know what I’m made of. Water and specks of elements, sure.
Yet my soul has never clogged with mud; my mind fogs only from my own breath.”
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