by Bill Yarrow
On an exceptionally hot evening
early in June, a young man
came out of the garret
in which he lived in S. Place
and walked slowly, as if in hesitation,
towards K. Bridge.
The waters rose
on the earth
one hundred and fifty days.
I concluded that I might take,
as a general rule, the principle that all the things
which we very clearly and distinctly conceive
All rights reserved.
This poem appeared in Berkeley Poets Cooperative in 1984.
The poem stitches together sentences from Dostoyevsky, Genesis, and Descartes.
An animation of this poem can be found on You Tube: