And where, pray tell, are you going from here?
You with your plans that made it all clear?
Where in God’s name are you heading from here?
Wipe those fogged glasses, old man, as you peer
into the Void. Then tell us what you see over there.
What staticky words are you thinking you hear.
What’s milling about in your brain there, old seer?
What thoughts, if any, are drooling in there?
And just what’s that you’re feeling? Isn’t it fear?
Tell us, how do you plan to get there from here?
Where are you heading, friend, other than nowhere?
Look, here’s a cracked crystal ball to gaze on. Here,
stare into its surface. That’s it. Longer. Longer. Now, share
with us shades how what you see will ever cohere
when you don’t have a clue how you ever got here.
Paul Mariani is the emeritus University Professor of English at Boston College. A poet, biographer, memoirist, critic, and essayist, his poems appeared in the initial issue of Image. His latest books of poetry are Ordinary Time and All That Will Be New (both from Slant).
