A COMPLETE NOBODY

white_deer
A COMPLETE NOBODY
by Aaron Fagan
You walk back
Through your
Life, gathering
Up the disparate
Threads you laid
Down, made
From anything
You could find—
Floss, bark—
And fastened
Them together
With anything
You could find.
And you think
You did this for
Others. You sit
On your own
Lap, your hands
Tug at your face
In quiet oblivion.
The sky is clear.
You can see for
Miles in every
Direction and
Grow happy
You can’t be sure
This is happening.

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  1. A plain-spoken testament of terrifying personal revelation: a wasted lifetime in a moment. Your life amounts to the most inconsequential things, “anything you could find”: “floss, bark” [great choice] “fastened…together with anything you could find.” [great repetition] Upon consideration, what is life but this, for anyone? And the irony is, “You did this for Others,” with the emphasis on “You” and “Others.” As though your life could mean anything to anybody else, either. “You sit in your own lap.” Is there any other place to sit, which could comfort you? The revelation is one of “quiet oblivion” in which “you can see for miles in every direction.” Then, (my interpretation) because there is an increment of salvation in you–just you, no otherworldly grace involved–you “grow happy” because you also can see this “complete nobody” perception may be only subjective: “you can’t be sure this is happening.” Small consolation, but enough to pull you back into at least a dubious sense of self-determination.

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