Fred thanks could soon be me!!
I suppose the 911 would have to be translated in each country's edition 999
here
Wonder what happens to 911 here -UHM?
-----Original Message-----
From: Poetryetc: poetry and poetics [mailto:[log in to unmask]] On
Behalf Of Frederick Pollack
Sent: 27 June 2008 21:26
To: [log in to unmask]
Subject: "The Losses"
The Losses
If, losing it, you walk
in a middle-class neighborhood,
you won't, as in others,
be immediate prey;
nor shall people flee,
not wanting to be involved. They may,
however, watch you,
not wanting to be involved,
while finding a category
for you: Alzheimer's. If you seem
too young for that, ranting,
gesticulating, weeping,
you're more threatening. In a story
by Pirandello, an old gentleman
buttonholes strangers, expressing
manic admiration
for the spring evening, trains, progress,
whatever, then reveals
he has an epithelioma
("Such a beautiful word. Like poetry!"):
is that you? Shall you praise
the drugstore and sushi place,
hybrids, the grass near the intersection
some benign unknown, volunteer or municipal,
mows? Then unfairly
protest each and every
shortcoming of life, which are only
those of *your life, though your unwilling
listener may cautiously
avoid saying so? The state
relies on religion
to fetishize a compassion
we have no desire to feel, relying
on the state to free us
from it: shall you philosophize thus?
Pirandello's protagonist
has a woman with him, or rather
a block behind - wife, daughter?
Unclear. Perhaps you do
too, if you're fortunate.
She comes closer, says your name.
She backs off, at the chopping
arm-gesture, the greater
volume of drivel with which you
don't look at her.
If there are people on the street,
she tries to smile, as if to say
you're normal. She wonders,
if she cries, will you turn, will you stop.
Overcome, she cries.
If that fails, if you fail to realize
she has stopped following and you're alone,
she will call 911. Rest assured:
she's aware of the same black hole
or epithelioma
as you. It's overlain, however,
by the thought that, if positions were reversed,
you would cover that block, pick her up
struggling and biting,
ignore passersby, drag her home,
saying only, louder and louder, *It's OK*.
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