New Word

A single word firstlast deserves to be

a word in life’s dictionary. Remember,

the firstlast. He’s first, late, coming soon.

That word has a day and night in it, but no death.

Death is a state of disappearance.

In German, tod means death.

Wash away the final “d,”

to becomes part of an infinitive.

All the English words I’ve found have grown

in the sometimes lonely dictionary garden.

A useful word grows, pollinates in the O.E.D.

I thumb through a little.

I find I see with my eyes, a sea I sail across. Changing

the spelling changes the history,

see and sea become yes in Spanish and Italian.

Primero y último, first and last, are too vowelish to

be words in English, they work perfectly in opera. In

various languages, give light and darkness have

beautiful meanings and references.

I add a new word, firstlast, to a dictionary,

life, that is a theater of languages, a part of speech. A

word must be an actor and an audience.

Brecht made the audience part of the play.

“Who’s there?” you ask a soldier and a ghost.

I pickpocket the last line. Each of us says,

“Let the soldiers shoot.”

If there is a curtain, it falls.

Outside the theater, I call for a taxi.

I wait, I wait, I wait.

I believe the firstlast taxi is coming.

Everything that lives is firstlast.

I see one pigeon, but all the trees

are out of sight.