04-08-2022, 11:18 PM
(This post was last modified: 04-08-2022, 11:19 PM by RiverNotch.)
Il Gran Rifiuto
I, I: it always begins
with that stubborn letter.
One hopes it would end with you but, as it is,
one cannot know how it ends. All the better
to spend what little life we have
succumbing to that most feminine gesture,
the subtle nod -- the vita activa
summarized from before the counter
or in the dark alley behind the bar.
I will not have it! Let me flower
contemplative, entirely by my choice
bound to the quiet of the cloister
than to some corporate contract closed
by corporeal necessity,
laboring for the intoxicating rose
that rouses the soul from sleep.
I, I: it always begins
with that stubborn letter.
One hopes it would end with you but, as it is,
one cannot know how it ends. All the better
to spend what little life we have
succumbing to that most feminine gesture,
the subtle nod -- the vita activa
summarized from before the counter
or in the dark alley behind the bar.
I will not have it! Let me flower
contemplative, entirely by my choice
bound to the quiet of the cloister
than to some corporate contract closed
by corporeal necessity,
laboring for the intoxicating rose
that rouses the soul from sleep.