Far from all forms of charity,
I am the prophet, the retired apostle
of faith in myself.
My friends‒escape artists,
foreshadowers of verses,
sunk in the quicksands of language.
They believe in the melodies I babble
exalting legendray elephant graveyards
& mystic monsoons.
We witness the paradigms of a century fall
while celebrating a Wimbledon match,
a joy much greater than a revolution.