Absurd, /æbˈsɜrd/, -adj

This weather is absurd.
Human souls are absurd.
Obscenely absurd syntax is.

I have become singularly obsessed with this thesis to the point where nothing else really matters much at all. It is the only thing I care about. I think I might have some sort of separation breakdown when I finish it.

And that I find rather absurd.

- - -

I am reading Schopenhauer. Everyone laughs at that.
-Samuel Beckett

Talent is like a marksman who hits a target which others cannot reach; genius is like a marksman who hits a target which others cannot see.
-Arthur Schopenhauer

oh, Samuel. I read you every day that I might
scribble out something in the way of love
I do this as a moment in the ritual of academia—
the culmination of these purported learning years

this is more than ritual, though, I know that.
you have deepened me
cut me open and loosed this inside:
is it not better abort than be barren

I suppose it is these years, too, and not just you
which have opened me.

cemented in language and
cracked with disease have been the theses
and now it is you. you and
the emergent past
the same way a dandelion pushes through
the humanly-produced paving
weedy and ugly and graceless.
that is what arrives now,
all the graceless moments

occluded targets and the coarse brunt of
ascending memory are always in my mind now

and then there is you, a poet who
I think I know
in more than just the language.

your words are somehow steering me
through this wretched squall

if you do not love me I shall not be loved
if I do not love you I shall not love