The Definite Article
May 6 2008


I’ve learned to be suspicious of the definite article.
Like the truth,
received whole, irrefutable.
Or the people,
especially when one person
— usually in gold braid and a silly hat —
invokes their name.
Or even the future,
as if it were a singular place, and fate had us by the nose;
instead of an infinite array,
where the tiniest contingency could make your head spin
and your life veer madly off course.

Although you’d think at least the past was safe,
carved onto monuments
inscribed into text.
No, look again
because while your back was turned, the past changed,
and you go there at your own risk
— re-visiting history
stumbling about with blinkers and chains,
lugging behind
all the grievances and myths you were weaned on.

Just the facts, you’re tempted to say
— and there it is
that damned article, again!
An understandable temptation,
because in such an uncertain world
it’s reassuring to be so definite.
But I prefer the humility of ignorance
and doubt;
where I can respect your version of the past,
and feel thrilled
that with so many futures
there is always a second chance.