Written while listening to Uncommon Deities.

Today I look for a book
whose pages do not exist
outside the confines of Norway

A translation exists
but it, too, is trapped
within those same borders

I have found a transcription
but it needs corrections
and division into paragraphs

The participants in its creation
are still with us

They decline to illuminate

Instead, they leave behind recordings
copies of which are hard to find
even in those shops which traffic in such items

The afternoon sun beckons
I let the matter drop
and step out onto the deck

and into a strand of spider web

(3 May 2018)