Wednesday, May 26, 2010


For The Sake of Strangers
by Dorianne Laux

No matter what the grief, its weight,
we are obliged to carry it.
We rise and gather momentum, the dull strength
that pushes us through crowds.
And then the young boy gives me directions
so avidly. A woman holds the glass door open,
waits patiently for my empty body to pass through.
All day it continues, each kindness
reaching toward another - a stranger
singing to no one as I pass on the path, trees
offering their blossoms, a retarded child
who lifts his almond eyes and smiles.
Somehow they always find me, seem even
to be waiting, determined to keep me
as it must have once called to them -
this temptation to step off the edge
and fall weightless, away from the world.


  1. This powerfully speaks what I have felt this week. Not necessarily grief, and not wanting to go off the edge, but the melancholy here, and the grace from strangers.

  2. They never find me...I wish they would. Soon.

  3. Sometimes you have to find them.

  4. Can they really save us from ourselves?

  5. I agree with Anonymous 2.

  6. João, recomendo-te um software de gestão de anónimos, o GAJO - Gestão de Admiradores do João Online.

    Gosto muito do poema.

    * Leitora Devidamente Identificada *

  7. Nas portas do centro comercial quem entra segura sempre a porta para quem vem a seguir, trocam-se sorrisos e obrigados.
    Em cima na rua, os condutores tentam ser sempre os primeiros a passar, reclamam ao mais pequeno estorvo.
    As pessoas são as mesmas e são capazes de tudo, do melhor e do pior (ao que parece o Hitler até era vegetariano...).

  8. Yeah, there's no salvation from ourselves, it's all we really have. But small graces lighten the weight.