Change, what keeps all of it the same,
the Teacher says, no new thing
under the sun. What we make, let’s make old
instead, older than the first tool,
what smelled much like the body–
the first blacksmith must have thought–
not quite like displaced blood, but blood at home
in its place among other parts in their places,
and that must be how we began to confuse
the power to examine and change
with the power to create
From The Diener by Martha Serpas
(Poems, prose and comics that remind me of archaeology, pt 7)
