we’ll start off in quantifiable terminology
Over the past few months, you became my best friend.
One of the few that would indulge my pseudomeaningful babble.
We spoke over Bananagrams, tea, and nicotine til 5am
and turned to beseech the sun:
Please, just…don’t.
You allowed me to present my chain of reasoning that proposes Zeno did not hand us a paradox, rather a sound argument.
You accepted without talk of soundness or validity.
Instead you deemed the cosmos:
The Infinite Jello Mold
in an attempt to articulate the unquantifiable.
Soon you will be occupying a space of The Jello Mold far away from my place.
(playing darts in French bars)
You left me pieces of Jello,
a pot
a trash can
a mug
tangible tools to remind me of our time together.
But more importantly, you leave me with
your words, your concepts, your ideas and thoughts
your friendship.
Those things which are not contained in our jello.
The inner
our consciousness
their Holy Spirit
Pullman’s Dust
Mallory’s energy
the Turkish word Cem could not remember
Wordsworth’s vague allusions to spirit
Zeno’s space
all different names for the same thing:
That which unifies all into this perpetual state of being.
The only thing that every thing has in common:
Existence.
Now that you’re gone I guess I’ll just look for a stage
(any space of jello saturated with open ears)
to spew my ramblings from,
wishing you were my audience.
Always waiting with
fire, tar, and bananagrams
in your pocket.
But until the jello jiggles us back into the same place
let us find comfort in the fact that space is not divisible into units.
So,
Thank You Sam
For being Your Self.
Because no one could ever do it better.
