where is my deep?

“a tethered bird longs for its forest, a pond fish for its deep waters”
– T’ao Ch’ien

—

no insight, and science remains a conspiracy
of facts     chuangtzu’s

monkeys scramble with feynman’s possibilities
till the broth rings

true     rumi underwrites his love of love
with a misanthropic

eye     do the monkeys scramble to sing a
better broth or do

they slip into hanumanhood?     this broth is
my deep my voice