I was a blind kid watching the tv and who had to put his nose on the screen to see with one eye the Gemini astronaut make his space walk tethered like a practicing acrobat and I thought, “that’s what we want! To climb in and our of our bodies!” And I wasn’t a big thinker at the age of ten I was just a kid who was bullied at school and whose mother was a drunk.
Success is a different thing. It’s a sharp object. One grows older. You cut the grass. Write sentences. But one still wants to climb in and out of the body.
The Romantics could do it. Well, maybe not. But they thought they could–you can’t fault their ambition. And boy oh boy did Ahab want to be Jonah. And you know, the shadow always seems more real than the body.
I watched a clumsy man who resembled a baby in a snowsuit floating in space.
You want to be an anti-moralist but can’t really get away with it.
You want out of the body-house but this is infantile as Jung said…and you want out of the story but it’s Lilliputian strings are everywhere; you want the animals to rescue you but they’ve got their own problems…
And the love dilemmas, the money narratives, the sadnesses of one’s children…
No wonder the poet James Tate wrote “fuck the astronauts” and actually meant it…
No wonder two truths approach one another inside this flesh.
No wonder right now it’s ten minutes to all that’s coming.
No wonder we fantasize about a dark ship that floats away on the sea.
In a split second of hard thought I manage to catch myself.