in the arsehole of diogenes

NEO-HERACLITUS_____________Qweir Notions in the arsehole of Diogenes: weBlog of a septuagenarian Binge-thinker since February 2008.
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Sunday, 4 August 2013

Void and Vainglory

I can think of nothing more vainglorious
than wanting to be remembered after death
by anyone (even a beloved dog), for anything.
When you're gladly ashamed to be human you
have neither self-doubt nor what
is called amour-propre, self-esteem;
and when you're dead, you're dead
and how you're thought of is (like yourself)
neither here nor there.

- Nevertheless, I like and present this poem:

My gift to you will be a void, she said.
But it will be so subtle that you’ll be aware of it
only after many years have passed,
when you are far from Mexico and me.
You’ll find it when you need it most,
and that won’t be a gratifying closure,
but it will be an intimation of both joy and absence.
And maybe then you will remember me,

if only momentarily.

- Roberto Bolaño, trans. Anthony Weir.

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