WHEN KELLER GOES

When Keller goes to the cemetery he is drawn to the tombstones of the important and the remembered. He stands in front of the tombstones, thinking about the people who are under there, the artists, the statesmen, the philanthropists, the barons. They intimidate him and make him feel small. They are songs on the radio and he is only notes on a page. They are cardboard and he is only stiff paper. They are birds in the air and he is a grimy feather downdrafting into a street gutter. They are known and he is unknown. But he is living and they are dead. He holds this as a victory for a second at most before he realizes that it is the greatest defeat.

©2020 Ben Greenman/Stupid Ideas