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Trammeling Up the Consequence For JCH They voted no. I’m not a Scot, so what do I know from their “no”? But I do know, “no.” No? Yes. Lear gave us four: “No, no, no, no” with Cordelia in his arms. Christ said let it, or yea, be your response, ironically making Scots scot free with their Biblical answer. My little guy looks at me and says “no” warily, knowing I want a “yes.” My wife says “no,” with scorn to warily, and often. Is it raining? No. Or yes. Elementally. Opening us to the definitive branch of the yes/no question, what is past, or present . . . being. Are the Yankees winners this year? No. Did they win last year? No. Easy. But then there is tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow, for Macbeth, other Scots, me and you. Which reminds me of things to which neither “nay” nor “yea” is an answer: Scots, and the larger phylum which will now and again register madly on the laser gun that captures the speed of the hour, a past now present, to be answered to. Freedom? And the gun said, “no.” Which somewhat rankles me: I drive fast, and am American. |
This Poem was Critiqued By: Joe Gustin On Date: 2014-09-29 09:50:09
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 10.00000
A very interesting twist on no and yes,the very binary of human existence. Blending Christ and Macbeth to bring home your meaning even better