The world doesn’t consist of matter or spirit,
of fields, particles or dynamic geometry.
The world consists of questions and answers,
the world is wen-do or kong-an
(in Japanese mondo and koan). Today at noon
a relative of mine drove up in his jeep
and told me that next Thursday I have to go to a funeral:
V.’s twelve-year-old son fell
from the stable-loft onto a concrete floor
and died two days later without regaining consciousness.
I know this too is a question.
I know there’s an answer here. I know
I should know the answer but…
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