more now?

say there are no more

‘there are no more’

I insist
those … tragedies
had a minor part to play

Sometimes
I never suspected

I thought that
tearing out irony
without fingers
and a vague smile
mysterious and satisfied
would change, naturally

evolving
with crushing scorn
I stop looking for love

“The attached photo comes from page 143 of Jean-Paul Sartre’s ‘Nausea’. Though I haven’t read it since I was in college 35 years ago (and it wasn’t for a class, believe it or not), it’s been a long-time favorite. (Between listening to David Sylvian’s ‘Brilliant Trees’ album and studying Japanese literature in college, and not being at all religious, existentialism made all kinds of sense. Until I read ‘Being and Nothingness,’ of course, which seemed to be more verbal gymnastics than anything. But I digress…) A year or two ago, I decided I needed a new copy (having discarded the bulk of my possessions a couple of times in the course of moving to Tokyo and back), so I went online and bought a used copy of the edition I originally had. Unfortunately, although it was in generally good condition, it was also on the verge of falling apart (indeed the section of the book from the title page through page 20 came out shortly after I received it). I subsequently bought a newer edition, but kept the old one, thinking I might use it later for art-making purposes.” — Kevin J. O’Conner