The Box

He of highest rank enjoys the privileged view

of the vanishing point of ultimate confusion.

I, too, enjoy the illusion of depth

from my seat to the side, shifting laterally

over and over and over and over

keeping perspective off-kilter but ass

awake. 

The duke stares down the horizon.

I stare at the duke. No one stares at me.

I have a face you don’t remember.

Maybe you stare when you worry you know me.

Maybe you do. But look to the duke when you do,

lest you miss the vanishing, lest you risk banishing.

Ambition is the mission,

but not for me.