The precise moment of apotheosis

The ruse of explanation! All is
vanity, fallacy, farce, delusion!
Mere meaning—Spinoza uncoils
in the roll of his deductive deaths—
for sages in the desert die!
for women in the temple die!
forebears, ancestors die!
Men alive—slender boys—
geniuses and fools render
as fit siblings in the urn!
Why not the creek for all
of us, the common spectacle
of our lot: cosmic atrocity!
Solipsists and psychopaths
and pedagogues and demagogues
and good mothers and mystics
in beggary, what say they
in the empty frosted streets
of a civilization too awkward!
Every thinking man is paranoid!
The very effort of breathing—
the effort of staving insanity
off to save the tired schema—
much sense breeds senselessness
and what means that for the species?

says the too-cerebral beggar
outside the Mexican market near here—


~ by Jeremy on June 12, 2013.

One Response to “The precise moment of apotheosis”

  1. […] as the saying goes, it only takes a second to score a goal and so it very difficult to capture the precise moment the ball crosses the […]

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