Every one is infinitely happy in every one, every one therefore
is as many times infinitely happy as there are happy persons. What
is the equation for “many times infinitely”: sideways
eight set sideways? A page of math reminds me what dementia is. You
could empty my bank account
while I stared at symbols. Something
about billiard balls. It's all in the angle you take, this question
of happiness. In Kathmandu the butcher re-opens for business, though
he doesn't trust his
building. The mayor has
canceled sweeps in Kaka`ako because they don't work. “Work” means
the homeless do their
unemployment elsewhere. A
minister who lives on the streets has to take weeks off to sleep and
re-gain her strength. Yet we hear the word
“vacation” for all they
don't do. My students said
the hardest assignment was to do nothing for
10 minutes a day. Nothing is
a luxury.
I asked him what happiness
is, and he wondered that I
didn't know.
--13 May 2015
1 comment:
Ah!!! An infinity poem. I must have been channeling you when I wrote mine. I love this & hear what's going on in Hawaii & found this: http://www.hawaiinewsnow.com/story/29049224/state-officials-majority-of-kakaako-homeless-are-cofa-migrants
... & think yes, of course the homeless are normalizing the situation, because otherwise how to face every new day?
What a great ending to this poem...
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