WHO CARES

But the Nothingness he meant,

which now is planetary, isn't negative,

rather an aperture, an opening

to the other side of actual self,

to the process of hearing light,

not unlike yourself when you bring

all that in your everyday seems drifting,

evermore ungraspable and transcient,

where all values beyond money

seem rootless and on the wane,

bring them along with your crumpled body

in the darkness, and afterward,

because sex is of the animals

and the stars, is in fact happily

the animals and the stars,

find that point outside the window

(ancient grit of wall, or tree or lichen)

and gaze at it, enthralled, fixed,

as if nothing were ever so radiant,

meditative, informative, attuned,

like a computer window in a world

of "cybernetics," he said, speaking of

the future some thirty odd

years ago, of this visual

listening to light

just below the surface of things,

this planetary All in you, constructed

of holocausts and ecstacies, the snail's inch

and the worker's steel, demonstrations and

montonies, golem and robot, opens to receive

most stumblingly, hungrily, desolately, authentically

sounds from deep within the wilding stillness

and there, when five small humn bones tug

at your sleeve of skin, the question-mark

falls away and you know who cares.

-- Jack Hirschman

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