WEBVTT

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The next poem, the title
comes from an essay

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by Martha Nussbaum on
compassion and terror.

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And she's talking about
this phenomenon or this idea

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that when one--

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the idea of compassion and
when one becomes concerned

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with something that's happening
far from them, something that's

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not in their
immediate circle, they

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lose sensation for things
that are happening near them.

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It's as if it's an
either/or proposition

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to become overly
or at all concerned

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with the things that are
happening far away from you.

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And to expand your
compassion on that

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is to lose a connection to the
things that are happening right

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in front of you.

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And she calls this
"The Problem of Death

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Within Life," which is
the title of the poem.

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Give and leave to speak, I
shape my tongue into a shovel

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and ask for more.

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I should have told the truth,
but the truth is incomplete.

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I seek the missing pieces
and my eyes go lazy.

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It's a choice I
make that ruins me.

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I get off easy.

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I let myself go.

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I hide the faces of the dying.

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Wrap what remains in lace and
tuck it in the bottom drawer.

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I'm sure I've pitied
you all wrong.

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I don't know how it's done.

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I never learned.

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I engulf with an
affection for my chasm

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in my gut, a sweet trap
door, a heart shaped

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hole, a pretty well that
threatens to swallow me up.

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This is a brief malfunction.

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When you shift out of
the frame, the feeling

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shorts and dissipates
and sparks.

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What a mess I've
made of this emotion.

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It's only endlessness
I've wanted.

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I can't fill my bowl or yours.

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I can't keep my full mouth shut.

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