Friday, October 8

Godot | Cascando

[Godot | Cascando]

Beckett has come up in conversations recently starting with a comment from a colleague referring to a supposedly impending announcement as "the Godot for which we wait".

It's been years since I read any Beckett. [I started with Waiting for Godot because I was in a production of The Actor's Nightmare in highschool.]

I last read this poem roughly 15 years ago. It is not what I remembered/I am not as I was.


why not merely the despaired of
occasion of

is it not better abort than be barren

the hours after you are gone are so leaden
they will always start dragging too soon
the grapples clawing blindly the bed of want
bringing up the bones the old loves
sockets filled once with eyes like yours
all always is it better too soon than never
the black want splashing their faces
saying again nine days never floated the loved
nor nine months
nor nine lives


saying again
if you do not teach me I shall not learn
saying again there is a last
even of last times
last times of begging
last times of loving
of knowing not knowing pretending
a last even of last times of saying
if you do not love me I shall not be loved
if I do not love you I shall not love

the churn of stale words in the heart again
love love love thud of the old plunger
pestling the unalterable
whey of words

terrified again
of not loving
of loving and not you
of being loved and not by you
of knowing not knowing pretending

I and all the others that will love you
if they love you


unless they love you
I must get back to work, for my Godot has arrived and is drawing gawkers. But, if I had my druthers, I'd be lounging on my big comfy couch drinking red wine and noshing on rustic Italian picnic-ish snacky foods whilst someone read poetry aloud for me.