What am I to do with all of it?
He regards the yard full of strange stuffs
These skills he learnt all these
years ago. Those quiddities. Those talents of yesteryear.
They’re like parts of machines idle now, but they’re
meant to do things.
Nay, I wanted to do something
good with what I had in my head.
So I thought I’d throw it back at them.
In ways they could not have foreseen. Make their devices
Of reason and logic contort and strain until unrecognizable.
They tried to make me conform, to their ways
I never did. Now I will return
I’m not a conformed entity, a liquid
substance following a mold
I am substance emoting
Everted content revealing and stripping molecules down
To their former purposes, and reprogramming them. And spelling it all out.
I learned well crossing inhospitable places- the value- of a self contained purpose and the hardened