Petals and Parasols
Oblivion. We came from it, we head toward it, this brief moment spent in Larkin’s blooming million-petalled flower. Who knew that could be more bleak than the oblivion we seek, and from whence we come.
So during this short interval, this grim slog of never-ending functions (they do end, mercifully) we must make the most of the sunny days, they say. Look out, look up, the sky is blue, the sun is shining! So? So what? We are still marching onward ever back to oblivion. Even as we ‘move forward’ or ‘look to the future’ that we are encouraged to by all around, we are blocking out that inevitability, just as a parasol blocks out the oh-so-inspiring sun – a useful guard against the good days.
“Stops Sun” is the translation, and of the bad days we use a device that “Stops Waters”, the “paraguas”; or in English the “umbrella”. Now where the fuck did a word like that come from? Seriously, what’s the point in that? In anything?
Well, both these infernal contraptions, equal in all but name, function and material, are forgotten in the restful bliss of oblivion. Or are they? Yes, Mr. Larkin; we will find out.
Today I wrote from 14:10 to 14:20