I think that I am suffering
From post-neurotic stress disorder
A random thought? an ordered world? or either other?Seated at the table with Oedipus and Isaac,
The conversation turned to parenting:
I wish I’d kept a journal when I had a life.
I seized the lisping ethnarch by his yard of beard . . .
Another voice, less comic, said:
Three robins are embroidering the borders with fat worms.
How did I turn out so severe?
So Chinese, Chaucer, Krazy Kat, and Moses?
And can make nothing of it?
In fancy not in fact I killed my father
I figured when he ends, there I begin.
Like snowfall on the grown bamboo
I have no roots, just baggage.
No words for god, but talk’s religion, leading . . .
Leading? leading where?
I met a woman at a concert
Whose husband of twelve years
Left her for the sister of their best-friend-couple’s wife,
Who then dated her next-door neighbor,
Who went on a charity bicycle tour to Savannah
Where he joined a group called The Twelve Tribes.
He said she could marry the tribe with him
But she’d have to give up her dogs;
And two trees fell on her home last Sunday.
And the power is still out.
I think that with the best will in the world
We drive our long-time friends away,
Who may not go, but do not want to stay.
We launched the First Things 2023 Year-End Campaign to keep articles like the one you just read free of charge to everyone.
Measured in dollars and cents, this doesn't make sense. But consider who is able to read First Things: pastors and priests, college students and professors, young professionals and families. Last year, we had more than three million unique readers on firstthings.com.
Informing and inspiring these people is why First Things doesn't only think in terms of dollars and cents. And it's why we urgently need your year-end support.
Will you give today?