ok I never went to Paris but that’s
ok I said I’ll have Paris here
deejay play Romantic Accordion Music
deejay play whatever starts with a breathy UNE DEUX TROIS
a lime falls off the counter
that’s the French Open is it true
that tennis grunts were originally encouraged
to mask the specific sound
of the racket making contact
so as not to reveal to the opposing player
the type of spin on the ball
I’m like that with sobbing it’s strategic
I’m obscuring the sound
of me plotting my revenge
don’t s’il vous plaît pretend you can ignore
how close I was to breakthrough
how devastating quel dommage it was to be shut down
on the precipice of discovery
at the very brink of knowledge
powerless against the defunding of my longitudinal study
to finally and incontestably
determine whether being born is worth it
mon dieu I can’t believe we’ll never know
Note
This poem is a response to / conversation with Alice Notley’s “Why Are You Writing These,” from the July/Aug 2018 issue of The Kenyon Review.
