Wow. is Immortal Diamond.
Frederick Pollack <[log in to unmask]> wrote: Last Things
You probably wonder what we talk about
at the end. Actually you don’t,
any more than we wonder about
what you talk about. Old Series, old
averages. Who had whose kid,
who bought which house and when and what
they got out of it. When Jesus will come,
with death-rays shooting from his fingertips.
Were you good. – And you think
(though actually you don’t) we sit around
determining, with querulous quavering
pickiness, positions and *times:
when Sirhan entered the kitchen and where he stood,
when rainforests or deregulation reached
the tipping point, where everything was lost.
We don’t. Actually we talk,
at the end, almost exclusively
about sex. On which we have
a certain detached perspective (we call it
“emotion recollected in tranquility”)
that makes it look like math.
Or the ideal case,
the Rational Man in the Marketplace,
the economists who rule you (I shouldn’t
say that – you’re free; they only serve
the men who don’t rule you) discuss.
We imagine sex between gods.
Perfectly beautiful, perfectly willing
and able, perfectly
absorbed, forever.
If you heard us you’d think it a prayer
and say so, wonderingly. (Wouldn’t.)
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