Easter Wings

Where else but Airport
Security, coffee-deprived, bored?

Under Hermes,
my graduate students assure me


poetry is characterized—
terrorized,


one might say—by what they menacingly
call semantic indeterminacy,


or instability, or contingency,
or chance.


Usually they call it disjuncture.
Unsure


of what they mean exactly, I prove it,
removing


my shoes.
What shows


on the full-body scan—
no wish to imagine.
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