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No I Will Not Listicle


We must stop

all this clamor,

this clutter

of virtual advice.

1,2,3,4,

This is how you do it…

bullet points.

We may die from it.

Who are we,

I mean really?

So many experts?

Pardon me

if I pause here,

skeptical.

Writers, good ones,

have voices.

Should they use these

hallowed things

always to advise?

To opine,

yes. Please.

We cannot help ourselves,

but this frantic race

to tell each other how.

Please, please,

let it stop.

For the sake of all that is holy

please

Shut Up.

There is nothing

like the list

to reduce it all,

this fabulous thing,

to a trite

going through

of the motions.

How irreverent

to parse out

the radical dynamic

experience of being alive

as if we were cakes…

to be baked

by recipe, just so.

How is it

There is such a plethora?

As though we were afraid

of the vast unknown,

of not knowing,

of radical guessing,

of wondering.

As though we believe the

way we might live

ideally would be safely.

How sad to sum it up

so finitely,

so literally

with such

a contrived

expertise.

Enough.

Tell me how you,

yes you,

not me…

tell us how you

live.

What sense you make of it.

Then,

I am all ears.

Art: Pablo Picasso | Portrait of Marie Therese Walter

WONDER

If we had a keen vision and feeling of all ordinary human life, it would be like hearing the grass grow and the squirrel's heart beat, and we should die of that roar which lies on the other side of silence. 

George Eliot

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