Privilege Kicks - A Meditation In Paces Near William Faulkner's Grave
'I believe that when the last ding-dong of doom has
clanged and faded from the last worthless rock hanging
tideless in the last red and dying evening, that even
then there will still be one more sound: that of man's
puny, inexhaustible, voice still talking! …not simply
because man alone among creatures has an inexhaustible
voice, but because man has a soul, a spirit capable of
compassion, sacrifice and endurance'
— William Faulkner - Nobel Prize Banquet Speech
*
A sign, green background, yellow
lettering, in a Mississippi graveyard,
reads:
'WILLIAM FAULKNER
The creator of
Yaknapatawpha county,
whose stories about his
people won him the Nobel
Prize, is buried twenty steps
east of this marker.'
*
There the happy Worm feasts.
Walk as many paces as you want and you arrive at this:
Here lies the 'Ding Dong of Doom.'
Not puny at all, such is the voice of man.
Red and dying, post-coital.
One reaches for the dawn even at sunset, strikes a match.
Dispatches left over tension in first exhalations.
Confront the Bear.
Human underwear, male/female, sad, drapes a chair beside
a bed, a bookshelf near.
A sign unseen except on a cigarette pack says:
WARNING: The Surgeon General has determined that
paces, any paces, forward, aft, left, right, cannot
defeat what is hoped for in the contents of this
[...] Read more
poem by Warren Falcon
Added by Poetry Lover
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