Your enjoyment of
the world is never right, till every morning you awake in Heaven. I
don't
feel constant joy, I say to my friend, who laughs. She prepares for
death, as we all ought. Only on the other side, she says, the other
side. To take sides is to take them where, like logs in a truck bed,
or the mirror to the world
that's never fixed. My students didn't know the word “bark” in
“wandering bark,” thought Shakespeare might
be referring to a stray dog.
That does change things, the ever-fixèd mark a bone, the dying poet
having writ on Kibbles. A
boy stands on Lanikai beach in Sunday best for his annual photo. Radhika
calls it his “birthday suit.” When I say what that means, she
laughs. Is it Mormons who stand on the corner asking for money?
Sangha wonders. No, they're the men
in narrow black ties. Bias is natural, Michael says, but it's how we
process it that matters. To
condescend is not to set a cross on fire. Remember that.
--1 February 2015
No comments:
Post a Comment