the great khan, leafing through his atlas, said: it is all useless,
if the last landing place can only be the infernal city,
and it is there that, in ever-narrowing circles,
the current is drawing us.

and marco polo said: the inferno of the living
is not something that will be; if there is one, it is
what is already here, the inferno where we live
every day, that we form by being together.
there are two ways to escape suffering it.
the first is easy for many: accept
the inferno and become such a part of it 
that you can no longer see it. 
the second is risky and demands constant vigilance
and apprehension: seek and learn to recognise
who and what, in the midst of the inferno, are not inferno,
then make them endure, give them space.