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Poem

the wisewo/man

s/he’s almost smiling
at all times of the day,
like there’s some secret
that only s/he knows but
that which only s/he is
completely ignorant of,
as it’s clear to her/him that
to know anything is to
pause in the act of learning,
so as to assert a place of
stagnation which most would
call conclusive evidence.

s/he walks with no speed &
is always listening, s/he’s
the friend that is always 
there, but never needed,
s/he has the right advice at 
the wrong times & won’t
give it at the times one 
insists desperately that they
cannot do without.

s/he does not shy from the
spotlight & for that there never
is one looking, s/he resides
in the most content of nowheres 
& the everyday piles upon the
next, s/he has a knowledge of
self as much as the next & is
never insisting that this is the
case, wondering just when it
will all be proven wrong,
s/he cares not for elements of
“faith” or “trust” or words that
represent these supposed feelings,
s/he exists in the process of the
moment & finds meaning in the
juggling of laughs which increase
the smiling around her/him.

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