Tuesday, April 21, 2020

Meditation 44 (number of Aaron and Obama)



21 April 2020

Oil costs less than nothing now, at least on screen. My student says she’s reading Marx for fun, recommends a video on communism (if I have the time). The death of capital, foretold. Pundits keep wanting the president to act like a normal person. When asked about the dangers of opening the country, he says, “People love me. I won the election.” He says “death” like it’s a word uttered in foreplay. Cosplay president, dressed in a long pink tie, shuts the country against its “Invisible Enemy,” which looks just like an immigrant.

She’s waited years for her husband to get into the country. They want children. I am her twitter witness, though not a follower. Does this require an E for Ethical, as in requirement? Plasma thins, the circulatory system wobbles. A doctor says you can be breathing well one hour and require a ventilator the next. My mother’s pulse was strong, even as her breathing stuttered. She scored high on abstract thinking when she was forgetting to eat.

I wake up with loss on my tongue, behind my eyes, in my bones. The old slide shows were quicker, but this one clicks, then stops, clicks then stops. The immigrant who ran a corner store in Chiswick gave me candy when I came back. The neighbor's dog, so cranky it ended up shipped to the pound after she died. The cop who told my son something wonderful would happen tomorrow. Loss is of a piece; that’s its allure.

It’s a collection of broken things, like pottery whose lines swirl and end at a jagged edge. It’s feared because it’s past: we lost loss. Can you find it? Sirens scream down the highway; a cop turned against the signal, with his blue light on. Later I saw him escort two older people out of the school grounds. They were talking story through their masks. Social media becomes a legacy site, where we grieve for friends we don’t know of friends we hardly know. It’s real grief, but.

Systems fall apart, like poems into prose, like buddies into monks. Some days it seems that to record the process is to succumb to it. Not process but actual collapse. She lost Wisconsin by several thousand votes, as hundreds of thousands of votes were suppressed. She should have campaigned more. Effect no longer correlates with cause. Time itself is rigged.

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