“Camus once said that the only real philosophical question is
whether or not to kill yourself.”
Mike Daisey
When one starts using Endust
in the sauté pan and Pam
upon one’s underpants to clean
the television screen,
how long should one continue
to be seen? Who should do
assessments of one’s severance
from whose assumed shared
points-of-view? When
I begin undressing for
the barbecue, will I have just
enough sense left to ask for
you? But oh! – my darling:
never mind. When I no longer
am inclined to talk to you
or answer for myself in kind,
confine my warm and wandering
dismemberments to their declining
shelf until they trundle off and
in their good or bad time fall.
Sense will lose its thrall,
and all will fade – and once
again, with no allowance for
deliverance, will destiny be made.
.
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