The Nihilist

Allow me to farm out my cares;
Let the wind breathe my breath
And the ever-restless turmoil of the sea
Heave a heartbeat for me.

No one ever taught me how to stop living.

And the numberless small indignities of death
That man must always be forgiving,
Cry their calumnies on heaven’s stairs.


2 thoughts on “The Nihilist

  1. iholdtheline says:

    A potent little poem. I read it a few times before I could get the shape of it.
    Where did this come from?

  2. cdspratt says:

    Honestly, I’ve been feeling the need to write something, but it was the phrase “numberless small indignities of death” that I’ve had hanging around in my brain for months now. Other phrases were gradually accumulated. Some of it was scribbled on the bottom of an economics page. It took me a while to cram significance into the space, and then sit back and figure out what it meant.

    So, really, it came from nowhere. Or the death of a friend.

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