Best to Leave It at That
That every one of the personal crusades in the course of my life has been quixotic -- the opponent's breast and the tip of my papier-mache spear fading into a common fog.
The Modern Philosopher's Dilemma
There are, let us say, ten incompatible paths. The choice of any one of them, as in quantum theory, forecloses all of the others.
A path implies a goal of course. We choose our path based largely on how congenial we find its teleology to be, socially, culturally, ethically. The path may be:
"May the Angels Lead You Into Paradise! ..."
"... May the martyrs come to welcome you and the blah blah blah blah ...!"
Thus two screechy-voiced women of a certain age, invisible in the balcony, escorted the "faithful departed" from the dingy lower church of St. John the Evangelist to the gates of heaven in 1960 -- a heaven where everything was ideal to the point of perfection, including the music.
On A Comma Watch
Things appear now, unadorned by layers of interpretation.
A stick of pepperoni at Wegman's. The deep folds of a purple pepper, photographed by Georgia O'Keefe in black and white many years ago. The sands of an oversized hourglass, interrupted at the base of the top funnel by a damp, dead kitchen moth. (Time has stopped for him.)
The Vikings escaping in haste across the sea from whence they came.
All "unsettling," you may be permitted to say.
The Depth of My Sorrows. The Many Sources of My Sorrows.
A good old-fashioned psychotherapist could make it his mission to uncover them, using me as his instrument. What possible other instrument could he have?
But to me it would feel as if he had grabbed me by the scruff of the neck, plunged my face into a 50-gallon drum filled to the brim with brackish, icy-cold water. What good would this do me?
(Gasping for air, gasping for breath.)
With all the will in the world
Diving for Dear Life
When I could be Diving for Pearls.
Just Like My Own Mother
Hanging our laundry out to dry on the back porch. Recorded dutifully by the Bell & Howell handheld. Trying too hard and too long to cling to her beauty. And as a consequence losing her dignity, become a laughingstock in fact.
The Black Diva.
Diana (less Supremes) Ross.