What Time is it? What Death is it?¹

From the cosmic accident of birth 
To the final grotesque Joke of Death—²
We are not resigned to the Shutting away of loving 
Hearts in the Hard Ground—so it is and so it will be, 
For so it has been, time out of mind: into the Darkness 
They go, the wise and lovely lovers and thinkers, into the 
Earth with you: be one with dull, indiscriminate Dust!³
The reason for living is to get Ready 
To stay Dead a long time.⁴

Between the living world and the 
World of death is a Clear, Cold Pane: 
One who looks too close Fogs it with 
Their breath, or holds their breath too long.⁵
In the face of Death and all that it is and all that it 
Shall be we stand Powerless—as if we’re no more 
Than a string caught in the early morning Wind.⁶
Death ignores protocol: a sweep of 
Its cape whisks us at Random into 
Dust—it is not even looking—⁷

Death is a dialogue
Between the Spirit & the Dust—⁸
Death is a Tower to which the soul Ascends 
To spend a Meditative hour—that never ends—⁹
Our Dream of death: Luminous atomic 
Particle-arc falls across and through 
The Curve of eternal Time-Space …¹⁰


¹ Ghassan Zaqtan tr. Fady Joudah, That Life
² Sylvia Plath, Dirge for a Joker
³ Edna St. Vincent Millay, Dirge Without Music
⁴ William Faulkner, As I Lay Dying
⁵ Wendell Berry, The Cold Pane
⁶ Jamaica Kincaid, At the Bottom of the River
⁷ Denise Levertov, During a Son’s Dangerous Illness
⁸ Emily Dickinson, Death is a Dialogue Between
⁹ Langston Hughes, Tower
¹⁰ Ann Lauterbach, Task: To Open