Tuesday Poem

Thinking Thought

“Oh, soul,” I sometimes—often—still say when I’m trying
to convince my inner self of something.
“Oh, soul,” I say still, “there’s so much to be done, don’t want
to stop to rest now, not already.
“Oh, soul,” I say, “the implications of the task are clear,
why procrastinate, why whine?”
All the while I know my struggle has to do with mind being
only sometimes subject to the will,
that other portion of itself which manages to stay so recalcitrantly,
obstinately impotent.”
“Oh, soul,” come into my field of want, my realm of act, be
attentive to my computations and predictions.”
But as usual soul resists, as usual soul retires, as usual soul’s
old act of dissipation and removal.
Oh, the furious illusive unities of want, the frail, false fusions
and discursive chains of hope.

by C.K. Williams
from
C.K. William Selected Poems
The Noonday Press, 1994