"Read words on large billboards.
Drive a car on an empty road.
Find a strong move in chess
(If you are a chess master). . . .
All these mental events
Belong with the angry woman--"
Experience tells us. And why is it
We mock the experienced drunk,
For, precisely, the fact
Of experience, when
We would never so mock
The experienced triathlete,
Or mathematician,
Or lover, or poet,
Or tenured academic philosopher,
Even given we know nothing
About the self-gratification
And self-sacrifice in teetering,
Roller-coastering imbalances
Any of these experiences take?
But I'm far now from system
One, automaton, and doing
A poor job impersonating
System two, The Thinker.
Start again, and this time
From monastic sobriety,
That state, which is to awareness
What organic labels are to produce:
I am not learning. I know.
And by that misfortune I learn,
To my regret, where it is that I,
Like you, like us all, in going, go.
No comments:
Post a Comment
Note: Only a member of this blog may post a comment.