The Quiet Man

Jaundiced in the jason’d months, adjuncts anent my purpose by a stillness venting,
I am the quiet man, unanent, whom adjacent maths of a me is dementing.
A quantum bomb in a different universe enacts all the options at once,
So that I lift keys from the hook in the hall at the moment that I ensconce
The keys, at the moment I tickle them whilst they are hanging; or rather, not I,
But that me who siphons the aboutness from me and every other me by
Being zero and one as well as all other numbers simultaneously.
Yet these ciphers in my adjuncts, like the al-iajaaz of Nizar Qabbani
Writing of his homeland, hint at a grief made ineffable by options vacuum.
Jaundiced by course of oral Nizoral, I am the quiet man, unanent, whom
Adjacent maths of a me is dementing.