Aaron Kunin, p.3



THE SORE THROAT

                              Last to know, and out of the mind, always.
                              Just as you yourself must know, n'est-ce pas?
                              Out of the mind, and wrong from the start.

    Here is the earth, and you are on it. The earth is great: it's wide and narrow and easy and hard. Here is a throat for you to keep: it contains a voice. I am here: I am a good boy, I am a good moron. What you demanded from the earth you now have, and there is a god. I wonder why you are weeping.

                              I no longer wish to remember
                              Seeing you gasp with laughter.

    Here is the earth: what's on it nowadays, I wonder? It's a pleasure to be on the earth in the age of talking rats. What's wrong with you is that you always complain about the loud moron.

                              A change in the habits of rats—
                              Rats of the mind, that is.

    Is there a moron? But how would you desire to say it? You have a choice. It's for your throat. Your talking habits are no good. I will always sigh for myself, for I know that I am the moron. I am sure of it.

                              It is hard to hear the voice of God;
                              It seems so narrow now.
                              But the last of the rats.
                              Will remember it with pleasure.

    Now the talking will begin. Jesus will do the talking, and the rats will do the weeping. But hear the voice of the moron: "The eyes of God are upon you." How much longer will the moron be talking, can you guess?

    And you know—you are dear to all rats. The god of the rats would say: "Don't be sorry. For pleasure is in the mind, and it is a god." How great is the goodness of the god of the rats—how good, how wise, and kind! But remember the narrow way of Jesus: "Dance and be easy with yourself, but God will damn you for it."

                              Oh boy, oh brother, oh dear, my dear,
                              It won't be easy and can't be a pleasure.

    Always begin weeping: the rats are weeping. Begin in wonder: the rats are weeping and sobbing. But there will be good habits and so on: the rats will be longer. The rats demanded a change. But the rats will always say: "We have no choice." Jesus cannot remember why; Jesus is wrong.

                              I have to know about the dance
                              Of the good rats.

    You are good for seeing and pleasure; your good habits are talking and laughter. I wonder why you are weeping with your brother, the moron.