I almost said, “My body has betrayed

me.” This disease I never thought

of possessing me. I hesitate such

an accusation, such a causality

between the unknown and the known.

How rarely what I know has fit

the facts and, further off the mark,

the truth which may lie concealed

for a long time. I’ll not waste myself

concocting reasons by some pretzel

logic. I still say with God, “I will be

as I will be” satisfied with that integrity

of ambiguity and responsiveness

to what is and what is not.

It’s hard to say this is a gift

but I am at the brink of those

words. And curses, also, which

I hurl like angry prayers in defiance

of any answer. So I have been

given something not to be overcome,

impossible to ignore and to which

I refuse to give any pity to – I am no

victim of anything. Of course, I think

of Jesus – betrayal, arrest, sentence,

passion, crucifixion, resurrection.

There is a correlation – this is what life

gives. Of the six acts which claim

the last of his life, I can claim five

with certainty. Damn near a twin,

I remind myself.