In the longue durée

In the longue durée
we taste the goods less durable
we sip on gatherings broken up
and even thought is punctuated —
there being instances of idea
experienced as ideaing.

In the longue durée,
when, in the course of human events,
sometimes needing a push,
the dance of matter and energy
fail to uphold those distinctions —
and marches ensue. Long ones.

Across Jǐnggāng Mountains to the Black Sea,
through Missouri, marching republics
of Xenophon or the Lord.
Dwelling on the road,
moving down the question.

In the longue durée,
when we meet again,
the slowness of feet and the barbaric road
will have danced like matter and energy —
A stupid thing we anticipated for all the wrong reasons.