What do you want to learn? (Inquires the banner ad.) As if we had only to ask. I'd like to know how life can be sweet sometimes with oblivion so near. A patient and wise man meditates, waits in his cubicle, keyboard at hand. Oh, you so eager to teach: I want to learn how to ask the right question.
You have such a talent for this, Lola -- so succinct and poetic. I love how you compress eighteen years worth of maternal love into four short lines. The first one captures the inevitability of the seasons and scans beautifully, besides.
Someone said once that sex is the opposite of death; Or was it love that is? No, he must have said sex. I don't really understand the poignant Donne poem, But I feel that love is not the opposite of anything.
In Streetcar named Desire, Blanche tells Mitch that desire is the opposite of death. Tennessee W. was an interesting character. I'd like to read his collected letters, published fairly recently; the excerpts I heard read on NPR were frank, funny, poetic.
Thanks Bixa...the earth seems so dead now. Evergreen plants are frozen and bowed over but I know they will spring into life; and I recall the warm sun on my face on summer mornings and know that it's only a matter of a few months before I feel it again. Only sleeping, not dead
Wow, Kerouac ~~ I could actually see a late afternoon winter's day, with hunched-shouldered people scurrying home from work, and one or two of them glancing up to see the snowflakes glitter as the streetlights come on.
Disperse your collections, you amassers of precious things, You hoarders and estate builders, while there's still time. The old man next door died the other day, Still clutching, intact, his set of antique grudge.