SONG OF UNIMPORTANCE

It’s not important

Whether a fly’s called “fly”.

Not important

if its buzz gets louder and louder.

Not important

if it drinks up ink and pisses blue.

Not important

if it decides to be excellent.

We two keep silent.

It’s not important

if the fly buzzes off and someone else enters the room.

Not important

if he chatters away, happy and content,

clever enough, he says, to even have his way in heaven.

When he leaves,

it’s not important if he’s the wisest man in paradise.

We two keep silent.

Silence encloses not only us

but the power pole and its shadow

afloat beyond the window.

It’s not important

if a kite hangs dead

from the wires, not important

that around the pole

we run thousands of miles.