rejectomorph | Reset Forty-Eight, Day Eighty-Seven

A bad day Saturday. After diminishing somewhat during sleep the earache came back stronger than ever as evening passed. My ear canal has swollen shut, so effectively I hear only on one side, which is most unsatisfactory. Following another fitful nap I made dinner and ate only half of it. The rest I put in the refrigerator, but I doubt I'll ever finish it. The earache and soreness is such a distraction I can't concentrate on anything else. The ear canal being swollen shut I can't use the eardrops that diminish the pain anymore. They just pool up and then run down my jaw when I straighten my head. I had tentatively planned on going to the bank Monday, but now I suppose I'll have to visit the emergency clinic (aka big petri dish) across the freeway, to see if they can do anything about the ear. I certainly can't. Crap!

Sunday Verse

Speak, you also

by Paul Celan

Speak, you also,
speak as the last,
have your say.

Speak –
But keep yes and no unsplit.
And give your say this meaning:
give it the shade.

Give it shade enough,
give it as much
as you know has been dealt out between
midnight and midday and midnight.

Look around:
look how it all leaps alive –
where death is! Alive!
He speaks truly who speaks the shade.

But now shrinks the place where you stand:
Where now, stripped by shade, will you go?
Upward. Grope your way up.
Thinner you grow, less knowable, finer.
Finer: a thread by which
it wants to be lowered, the star:
to float farther down, down below
where it sees itself gleam: in the swell
of wandering words.