MTC Cronin

The Sign of Being Dead

This is quite lovely
If it happens when
You are dead
Rather than when
You are alive
In the latter case
It is a similar sign
To the one received
By those who realize
The unreality
Of atmosphere
And similar again
To the one received
By those for whom
All stories are too
Finite for a patience
Such as theirs
In a real death
To the contrary
The sign is like
The wild energy
In each of the centres
Of a still mob
Acknowledge it
And fool that one
Whose ankles
Are still solid
Decipher the sign
And give your name
To the place
Previously dedicated
To living’s god
This is analogy
For the very least
Bit of interest
Being unfixed

Born

I’m 36.
I’m born.
I’ve stayed born.
I’m not dead.
I’m still born.
You don’t need to know a lot
to be born.
Ever since being born
everything I’ve learned
has taught me this.
In gratitude
I’ve accommodated my birth
into my story.
I say ‘I’m born.
I’ve stayed born.
Those who are born again
don’t know much.
They got born the first time
and then learned nothing’.

Chance’s Permissive Laws

Not that your heart resumes beating after the sneeze.

Not that the body rations its blood.

Not that the meteor is beauty too close.

Not that the eye socket waits for the arrival of scars.

Not that tears stop the flow of crying.

Not that the moon is as frail as a fingernail.

Not that memory is like elastic stretching back to hurtle you.

Not that the disappearing sound of the forest is our gasp.

Not that all steps are towards death.

Not that the real name of the cover-up is life.

But that you allow all these things.

That you give them a chance to destroy you.

That you afford them the chance to let you live.

The Hidden Law
after Auden

There is nothing hidden in an atom, a star, or a human.
Everything is hidden in a word.
A star.
An atom.
The whore’s dreams.
The hidden law does not enter a word.
It hides in silence.
Silence is the part of the universe a word cannot do without.
Though a word finds its wholeness when heard.
‘Star.’
‘Atom.’
‘Human.’
Speaking and listening can never find silence.
We are punished by how close they do not come.