Conundrums - Poem by Daniel Brick
"It is painful to say these things,
but it is painful also to stay silent."
I have been told erasure
is illusory. I have been told
there is a middle layer
between the front and back
of a single sheet. Whatever you
try to erase seeps onto that layer,
mingles with words, letters, punctuation
marks, doodles trapped there, and -
SOMEHOW - organizes a piece of fiction.
The two most recent results of this
most recondite process are two novellas,
that were secretly entered in the Booker
Prize: They both won! And no one knows
"what" the writer is. Notice that is not
"who? "; it is "what? "
I have been told if you break
someone's heart out of callousness
or spite, The Furies will haunt you
like a modern Orestes, whose six years
in therapy have achieved zilch. There
is irony here: These processes we call
"The Furies" are outside of causality,
so how can they impact our sensory world?
And what force or entity regulates
the moral balance revealed
in the suppression of the callous
and the spiteful? How are these qualities
recognized and measured? Is there an agent
behind the operations of things or beings or? ?
An epidemic rages in a country separated
from ours by a narrow isthmus. With stunning
speed and efficiency, we have built a wall
along our shoreline. Our navy patrols
the coastal waters. They give refugee boats
one long-distance warning, only one. This policy
is sanctioned by our Supreme Court. Permit
me to explain. By now, everyone should understand
triage. We are applying it on a larger scale.
We don't need all these people on one planet.
The immense population probably causes epidemics.
Rational politics sanctions this policy. Triage
works - for the privileged minority. If God wants
to do an ungodly thing, he can intervene and save
everyone, we humans only save those humans
who can benefit humanity. Our philosophers sanction
Comments about Conundrums by Daniel Brick
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.