You say you know the reason why Archimedes died
tracing circles in the sand & how
you’ll go out this way,
a man too in love
with unifying
theorem
& consequence.
You say you’d stake your life
in trying to understand
why gravity, like me, crushes
& slips
through your hands,
when I’m one hundred percent
certain that we are two
points never to meet,
if you keep
trying to connect the small & large of you
& me. I could tell you why Archimedes denied
the invading hand
of a Roman solider reaching out to him,
that one last chance
to surrender
& walk behind
a new empire, as free
prisoner. I could say why a frail
thing, like gravity, must be capable
of such cruelty.
I’m putting it out there,
for you,
the human body,
as a transitory stage
for what you & I will never see.
Just billions & billions of caterpillars
or maggots
or grubs,
thinking we are life’s final & finite
destiny—thinking it’s enough that we give
live birth & bury
our dead. & I could say
one of our greatest was only digging
his own grave
because life taught him
nothing in the end. But my dear
friend, the science of survival is not a science
of discovery. & when we die, we go in
mystery.
from If This Is the Age We End DiscoveryFind more by Rosebud Ben-Oni at the library
Copyright © 2021 Rosebud Ben-Oni
Used with the permission of The Permissions Company, LLC on behalf of Alice James Books.