The Manchester Review
Jeffrey Wainwright
Selections from The Reasoner
Poetry
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78

How much impartiality should we try for?
We look up for an answer? Up.
Down. Straight ahead.
The floaters are stirred up
like the flake in a snow-globe
Blackpool tower in a white-out.
Blink. Blink and blink again.
Slowly it settles and the viewing platform
returns to view.

And somewhere everything is understood.
Up there – that is the old idea, as frescoed,
and this is the new idea:
the hot news from the ice-cores;
the definitive history
of the Hong Kong and Shanghai Banking Corporation;
every lareage docket ever filed.
These are what move me hither and thither, impartially.


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