“Good answers are wasted on a fool”
–Ann Carson, Dionysos, Bakkhi
Often when I look up from my work
lost in thought, I can suddenly see
with a transformed clarity. I shake
my head as if I could align my
thought with the banal world around me,
like a child peering through a knot hole
in a fence tries to see the wider
world beyond his parental control.
I have no answers for the questions
I am too slow to ask. I’ve wasted
days disentangling the tedious
explanations of fools who believe
if they plod through their expositions
one more time, stopping along the way
to dissect each obvious point, then
I will arrive at the mistake they
metastasized into long ago.
But I don’t, and I am way too tired
to answer why, too worn from shaking
the same tree to find the exact fruit
they will refuse, once again, to eat.
So, I shift my eyes and go along,
blithely humming my discordant song.
(April 4, 2018)