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The Author Is Dead

Juliano Zaffino - The Author Is Dead - Blog


Juliano Zaffino

‘We want to love but lack the tools / Not even knowing each other truly’

‘We want to love but lack the tools / Not even knowing each other truly’

When were you happy last and
What were you doing then?
The world has disintegrated around you
Fragments and ashen mounds rising
Monuments to mounting misery
Like a thousand long poems canonising
Your supposed boundless suffering
In disassociated verse, poorly written.
Can you recall the last time
You could get through the day?

Last night I watched for the third time
That episode of The Simpsons
Where Bart sells his soul to Milhouse
Bart hollows himself out blindly
The way I do every time I say “yes”
Inviting strangers and lovers
To step over and around me
The willing loving cup crying out
For them to tip me back and fill me up
Just to bestow upon me meaning
Like a paper-based soul transplant
But all the time I am the soulless one
Who feels nothing, in terror of death
As much as life, so void of knowledge,
So divorced from love and humour

Next week we will be here again
Sofa-side together for some sainted hours
There will be some frank discussion
And projected thoughts of mutual grandeur
We want to love but lack the tools
Not even knowing each other truly,
Beyond names or basic functionality
Wouldn’t we be so much happier
If we could just be honest with ourselves
If we could just admit it with finality
This endless horror of our unholy union

We exist solely in a future uncertain

I watch that episode of The Simpsons
Where Sideshow Bob is not the bad guy

You meditate on self-indulgent agonies
The infinite passions of Christ and cruelty
And the nothingness that occupies you