Arriving Poem by James Mills

Embedded in a crumbling boulder
or sniffed as air released from some
mouldy cellar; that's how he
wished to arrive in the conscious
thoughts of those who thought
they knew him. He regarded Them
as the invaders while he viewed himself,
(as far as that was possible)
as cracked open; fully formed
and normal from day one.
So it was he never met a stranger -
for he felt he'd always known
everyone; saw words as they formed
on lips, saw words as they lay curled
in brain. Always smiled before he spoke,
provoking those who did not know him
(though he knew what they would say)
to say he was a strange boy.
How could they tell? Had they cracked too
from boulders or in the whiff of dank cellars?
And he went on knowing, never showing
how he knew.