but I to you of a white goat (fragment 40)
but I to you of a white goat
speak many millions of syllables
and yet say nothing at all
of my own passing.
we meet in this ocean of bearded hills
between two compass points.
I offer you my guidebook of colors,
containing every syllable about
the history of this white goat, where it has
climbed and where it fell. this prickled honey
combed from all I know, will be yours
without a single utterance. 