Stab

and I am not one, I am
many. I have the
dogged tenacity
of ten intent Rothkos. but

it is the job of Bald Mans to
erect these inscrutable
white walls, it is
the burden of a restless doubt.

and I’ve said: stab your arms deep
into the cold indifference, man:
make intrepid
of the aimless, empty want.