Poem For Samuel Beckett

November 27, 2004

Dear Mr. Beckett,

I too
Think

Therefore,
I think
I am

No time
Forever
Or leaves
To weep

Longing
for
The last
moment
(pause, reflect)

insignificance?
Yes.
Good.
nobody move

There Is More In This World Than Can Be Dreamt In Your PhilosophyWhere have you been
IllnessIllness is the night-side of life, a more onerous citizenship. Everyone who is born holds dual citizenship, in the kingdom of the well and in the kingdom of the sick. Although we all prefer to use only the good passport, sooner or later each of us is obliged, at least for a spell, to identify ourselves as citizens of that other place.
There Is No One Outside The BuildingThere is no one outside the building. I cannot see them. I cannot know they exist. I suppose it is logical to say that I exist, sitting at a desk in a room with two other breathing bodies. One is trying to ignore the other who has been sick all night. One is buried under blankets on the floor. I cannot see their body, but I hear some breathing, so I guess it is possible that they are still there.