Academic journal article Chicago Review

A Song for Paperweights

Academic journal article Chicago Review

A Song for Paperweights

Article excerpt

To enter the room

of a thousand paper-

weights, one descends

rapidly. And the more clarity

one has, the more rapidly

one descends. Each weight,

its own descent

into a glass criminality, into beehives

that refract the reality

of every

given

situation.

Goethe, as a boy, wore a coat

of green wool

with little gold frogs

embossed on it

and at his side he wore a miniature

sword. If you read "Poetry

and My Life,"

Goethe sounds a little

insane. How I admire

my sister's great disdain

for hysteria.

I, however, readily

descend into

the molten, millefiore

of the seen. When I think

of Clare (a girl from

high school)

and her disturbed Facebook

updates: "You got a

new daddy. ARE YOU

COMPREHENDING*

L.A. HO with da husband? *LOAN

FORGIVENESS*.

The MBA you working on at dat

IVY LEAGUE is *PAID* for.

Orphans and MOM

*paid* for," I admire

my sister's remove

but don't

have it in me.

Why did Clare choose

the wrong friends

in high school?

All bubblegum stockbrokers

and cutthroat lawyers now.

Except for my

sister, (while disdaining!),

who is the devout one, the one

who loves the Lord

and forgiveness (and all of that stuff

I know nothing about),

they were all

worthless and cruel.

"It's free love until

you have to wipe

a baby's ass," my friend says

at dinner talking about

the possibilities

of a free

love commune. …

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