It’s a strange thought that human life is built on such quicksand, governed largely by vagaries and accidental encounters from the past, even though we take such great pride in our aesthetic sensibilities and freedom of choice. On this one point I am in complete agreement with Freud.
— Ramachandran, V.S. The Tell-Tale Brain: A Neuroscientist’s Quest for What Makes Us Human. New York: W. W. Norton & Company, 2011
you should love books
but I mean my books
my vision of being
simple and wide
in upstate new york
the center of colorado
or the bottom of the atlantic ocean
you are not a curse
you are a swear
I am not complicated
you are a revolution
you take too long
I am afraid of those
whose only deterrent is morality
you are sand reckoner
wolf or great attractor
I can swim
Stopped mid-motion in the middle
Of what we call our life, I looked up and saw no sky—
Only a dense cage of leaf, tree, and twig. I was lost.
It’s difficult to describe a forest:
Savage, arduous, extreme in its extremity. I think
And the facts come back, then the fear comes back.
Death, I believe, can only be slightly more bitter.
I can’t address the good I found there
Until I describe in detail what else I saw.