“Everything becomes and recurs eternally.” Nietzsche
“An utterance is never just a reflection or an expression of something
already existing outside it that is given and final. It always creates
something that never existed before, something absolutely new and unrepeatable.”
Bakhtin
The high whine in my left ear cannot drown
the higher fainter whine in my right.
I’m growing old. Falling apart as everything does,
little by little, until
the whole structure crumbles. Nonetheless
I can still hear the steady click of the clock like a heartbeat
over the whine. And the alternate rhythm of music still
easily draws me away. Sometimes
I think the best attitude to take to death is
to ignore it. Don’t accept it.
Don’t bother to fear it. Just don’t
pay it any heed. Preparation
is just another form of denial,
another agent of that fell sergeant. And yet,
the moment I sat down and urged
the goddess presence to visit
me
like a holy ghost and write whatever comes
I heard the whine in my ear against the music of my life
and thought of death.
