The spirit’s simulacra have obtained
a spinning countenance both manifold
and manifest. And, lo, the spirit bides
within its every avatar unchanged,
and, lo, the simulacra swerve beyond
appearances alone, but keep their deep
entirety composed in every face.
You’re dizzy? Just as well. Your dizziness
proves seemly here, up close, and cultivates
at last a sweet, uncommon modesty.
How long has glib presumption kept us both
unschooled and pleased with our elaborate
unschooling? No? How might you now suspect
the spirit’s effervescent quickening?
And I? I couldn’t easily say, but might suppose
this sudden bubbling near the heart is meet
and right, and promises one day to rise
to serve an altogether animate occasion.