Readings: A Timely Piece of Work

X
So I got up this morning, having only yesterday received confirmation that a worst case scenario was indeed a reality. I picked up the copy of James Tate's Selected Poems that was sitting on the table next to my recliner. And I opened it to this:

Consumed


Why should you believe in magic,
pretend an interest in astrology
or the tarot? Truth is, you are

free, and what might happen to you
today, nobody knows. And your
personality may undergo a radical

transformation in the next half
hour. So it goes. You are consumed
by your faith in justice, your

hope for a better day, the rightness
of fate, the dreams, the lies
the taunts – Nobody gets what he

wants. A dark star passes through
you on your way home from
the grocery: never again are you

the same – an experience which is
impossible to forget, impossible
to share. The longing to be pure

is over. You are the stranger
who gets stranger by the hour.

While this goes against the grain of the mindset that I've been struggling to maintain, I certainly can feel it. Way down in my gut, I can feel it.
X