Distraction Number...
Is it justified to throw away
Day's ghostling light
merely to disobey
looking at th'Outside
--switch to another man-made instrument
& why--Where a magnifying glass
hangs by its teeth (invisible)
to a spot of green life? between
a spectacularly formal hanging
& too vulgar a suicide (from
what will be/was--th'sharpened (focus
of existence) brought closer
pictured in its self-treason
--the inventions of man
one on top of the other one
... we look outside & then compose a dance
to dance within (th'record-changer
plays its phony peace, "It doesn't matter,
the important thing is--" the drum
of the suspenseful minute
rolling along (the dead
side of it): Why is it dead?
(what never was alive)
--Who can say which is more alive
th'Truth we find (and against which
we guard our lives--sacked
in th'slack's silliest) or
th'Truth we make up
and guard with our lives
Say, at The Last Supper:
the bookcases protest (with
Time made a crumbling gruel
we feast on ) th'contradictions
of man--who can't quite find
happiness in happiness
but must also struggle against
things that may (or may not) threaten
happiness ( immediately or in some far-off time
"The important thing is--" perhaps
like sponges to shut down
th'sounds (of what?) safe in their
truths that shut off the outside
with walnut walls looking on
so impassively (they know they've won,
they don't have to prove anything)
The Question has been answered, "The
important thing is--" [It is a terrible Question
and a beautiful answer--or reverse it
if you like--one way or the other
all truths are valid... "O, my God
--There's no important thing--"
but th'Mind never evolved to resolve
contradictions
--only :
to accept,
Man!
to make up his mind
one way or the other (from
within): to reach out
with precision & change th'record
on the phonograph, reflecting
a mood of formal killing
or murdering th'Universe of Life
from within: "I owe it
(to th'poor men) that I got elected
Now, let's call out the POlice
(&) Get'em all arrested!" but
no one cares to understand or listen
(it's a hindrance)...
"Liberty!" th'gleemen cried
until th'frame's bones cracked
(before: they'd only made th'scaffold tremble
with th'weight of All
Mankind jumping up & down upon th'planks
aimed at Th'Voids): "Joy!
"Liberty! or we die!" and
th'mob assembled ( for a hanging
et al )