|
Mark Jarman reads
 At the Next Table
in Real Audio format.
|
 |
Two men are arguing about judgment,
Not baseball or business, or politics
Where at least someone can vote. But this
About which they say we have no say.
They might as well describe their own unconscious.
No say at all. Whether the brawny cloud
Of the Lord’s arm cracks the whip of dies irae
Or the existential choice of living does it—
They know that we are judged. We’re pitied, too.
Or that is, granted grace. The gift is knowing.
And we can choose or not choose to obey.
About all this they’re in agreement.
And one sees the Sistine Chapel wall loom up
With naked joy and naked misery.
The other views a wash of Camus gray
And one firm line of ink we have to cross.
It doesn’t matter, does it, how we’re whipped
Into sheep or goats, chaff or wheat?
The two agree that in the end there’s judgment,
Enough to weep at or, with courage, laugh.

|
|
|