“I Hand You Like an Orange to a Child.”
(A collage of final words)
Subject to breaking up
are all compounded things.
With mindfulness
strive on.
—The Buddha’s final words
I
I can’t sleep.
Fetch me coffee: I’m going to write.
Mehr Licht!
Turn up the lights—
(I don’t want to go home in the dark.)
Read some more.
That tastes good.
That’s good.
II
Little Cousins, Called back
I must go in, the fog is rising.
Now day and night are locked in combat.
The Earth is suffocating
Do you hear the rain? Do you?
Hear the rain?
It is walking towards me, without hurrying.
Everything is mortal.
I see black light.
This is the last of Earth! I am content.
III
Pardonnez-moi, monsieur.
(I don’t think they even heard me.)
Pardonnez-moi, monsieur.
(I don’t think they even heard me.)
(I don’t think they even heard me.)
(I don’t think they even heard me.)
Adieu…
mes amis. Je vais à la gloire!
IV
Only one man ever understood me.
(Don’t disturb my circles!)
And he really didn’t understand me.
—Das ist absurd! Das ist absurd!—
We must be on you,
but cannot see you.
V
The paper
burns, but the words
fly free.
O, holy
simplicity.
I am in flames!
