The comma is comely, the period, peerless,
but stack them one atop
the other, and I am in love; what I love
is the end that refuses to stop,
the promise that something will come in a moment
though the saying seem all said;
a grammatical afterlife, fullness that spills
past the fullstop, not so much dead
as taking a breather, at worst, stunned;
the sentence regroups and restarts,
its notation bespeaking momentum, its silence
dividing the beats of a heart.
Saturday, 21 July 2012
; "His Love of Semicolons"
His Love of Semicolons
"Amit Majmudar is a diagnostic radiologist, specializing in nuclear medicine, practicing full-time in Columbus, Ohio. "
So says the Wiki.
We label people by their work, their hobby, their family, their tragedy, whatever glib ticket we can stick on the box.
I'm always aware of this, of how when someone asks "What do you do?', meaning, "what is the occupation that pays your bills?".
And I'm always aware that the answer is the tiniest possible clue as to who the person is.
Do we expect our radiologist to be a poet?
And I look at people, try to see beyond the facade, wonder what mysterious, imponderable world they inhabit.