On the Beach, I Will Read Plato
A New Poem
On the beach, I will read Plato In the hedonist’s season Of an unruly summer When frolics are the law And no one seeks an other than Or an other with Then, I will read Plato Between the cursed enjoyment of other things In which walls unbuilt confine And give scant comfort But for Plato And what, indeed, could Plato have to say To the tanned girl Big tits and round ass Alight nearby Scorched by the sun All innocent and beloved Without a heart or stomach Indigestible I think Plato would say, “And so, young lady, let us play, Let us try, at last, to remember. Let us, let us, let us… Let us.” And he would have nothing more to say As I have even less to say And what difference does it make to speak? If life’s a beach The world’s a beach Death’s a beach And the world-death, as the world-life Takes place amid the sand and empty lobster shells You may ask. You may ask. I asked once I asked the sun I asked the sand I asked the sea The sun burnt my eyes The sand stung my eyes The sea stung my eyes And they had nothing more to say. But I stayed And I wondered Thinking that this breath Or the next Might wake me But nothing did And so, on the beach, I slept Unremembered dreams Until I awoke at last, And decided that I would read Plato And I wondered then And wonder now Whether Plato ever read On the beach Read Heraclitus Read Thales Read Xenophanes Or Xeno of Elea Before the wine-eyed deep He would have looked at girls too Old Plato. He would have looked at young limbs And wondered at their animation And their ease and arc Through the salted atmosphere Salt so like the body And its elusive waters Which are sought by all Of any age Even long past our allotted time. Who allots the time? Who demarcates the clock? By what right On whose authority Do they reveal the law? And what is law In our strange and mordant age? Law is nothing. Sun is nothing Nor is sand Nor is sea Only words Round numbers Etchings upon papyrus reeds Become double-numbered secrets In any age These are the words They open and close Invite in and usher out Refuse the sun Refuse the sand Where unread Plato awaits the sea.
 | A guest post by
|