Gone Fishin'

“It is noteworthy how wrong it is to be angry and complain
when something is lost: that bears the presumption that
that good thing was given us instead of being lent….”

Meister Eckhard (trans. Blakney), “The Book of Divine Comfort”

----------------------

I think I'll scrape the harder, rougher encrustations
off my day today and stay somewhere beyond
the ego’s pale: play the Melville whale and be enigma:
rip out of my barnacled constraints and live off capital

instead of the complaints that it engenders: cut life
into tender meat and get beyond its anxious greedy
panting breath: care a little less about the certainty
of death. Today I'll flow as unencumbered by my

yearning and bewilderment as I can choose to be: let
neurosis be unthinkable: and sadness, news to me.
Doesn't mean I'll opt for gladness: merely skim
the waters with a slick bare skin, and be the fodder for

the Universe’s whims. (As if there were another way
to swim.) I cannot buy into the aims I see around me
anymore. I don't adore one thing I notice others
do. And so today, and possibly for longer: toodle-oo.



.