And how many men I have seen in my time made stupid by rash avidity for learning! Carneades became so mad about it that he had no time left to take care of his hair and nails.
—Michel de Montaigne, “Of the
Education of Children,” 1588
Carneades of the shadow.
Carneades of the whisper.
Carneades who could not blink his eyes following letters across a page.
It is good to know prosperity.It is good to have loyal servants.
Carneades held books close and stubborn
As if his greatest need was to understand the inside of a stone,
The workings of a six-inch tooth washed up on the shore,
The breathing heart of the baby harp seal panting heavily away from others.
Carneades owned all of the books—Alexander be damned—
His eyes, his ears, his huge sense of smell, unruly hair, broken fingernails—
He read past the moon hour, past the rising of the sun, past the closing of the baths,
Left important matters to his servantsAnd his servants lived well.
Carneades sits on the soft pillows in the corner of his library,
His lamp bright,
His glasses thick and bulky,
His hair unkempt and ragged,
His fingernails long enough to get in the way of turning a page.
Carneades reads.
| Copyright © 2022 by Michael H. Brownstein Michael H. Brownstein’s volumes of poetry, A Slipknot Into Somewhere Else and How Do We Create Love?, were published by Cholla Needles Press in 2018 & 2019, respectively. |
In thanking me for my “excellent presentation” of his poem, Michael let it slip that the poem “is one of [his] favorites.” So, I’ll slip in something too: I think it will now be one of my favorite poems as well! And how can it not be a favorite of many other readers of fine poems?
ReplyDeleteThank you for your great compliment!
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