Morphine is dripping from bags by my bedside,
Running through plastic to veins and it's racing
Agony inside my nerves and it dribbles
Down from my eyes. And my children are weeping;
Babies are wailing; their tears form a river.
Floating away, I am filled with the terror
Judgment imposes and pray for the angels.
Light for the rheuminess lost! Is the barter
Made in my life to be honored, with Heaven?
Yes for an age—my beloveds united.
God is too bright for the recent arrivals.
Later it tugs me, like death for a second
Time—and then time seems to vanish completely;
Leaving my self for the fabric of ever.
Infinity echoes in quantum repeating:
Starting and ending; explosions renewing
Each possibility. Thoughts are the monads,
Serving as pieces the universe conjures:
Gamma ray bursts, and the grass that a toddler
Ran through and swore to remember forever—
Thinking that somehow her prayer has been answered.
“So I was dubious when I read in The Wall Street Journal last week that students are relying more on online roommate matching services to avoid getting paired with strangers or peers with different political views, study habits and messiness quotients... As in Darwinian evolution, cross-pollination with diverse strains promotes species development... Choosing roommates who are mirror images may fit with our narcissistic and microtargeted society, but it retards creativity and social growth.”
– Maureen Dowd, The New York Times, August 10, 2010
http://www.nytimes.com/2010/08/11/opinion/11dowd.html?_r=1&hp
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