Everything can be split. Categorizing it's basic parts. Placed into file cabinet drawers. Tagged. Tabbed. Demystified. Until it resembles nothing of it's former self.
One of my favorite topics, and one I consistently grapple with. Are you suggesting that classification, in its simplification, is divisive and possibly destructive?
Love the last line, it's so, well, poetic. You really capture the need for humankind to want to understand the world through labeling... the word "demystified" is an excellent word to show this. This is one of my favorite of your poems. I especially like how the first line and the last sandwich the rest.
I like how each line of this poem continues to divide whatever the reader can imagine is being divided.
Maybe this is just me, but the middle lines remind me of a morgue. The cabinet drawers would be where they store the body, while the body is tagged or tabbed. Could division be the death of us?
4 comments:
One of my favorite topics, and one I consistently grapple with. Are you suggesting that classification, in its simplification, is divisive and possibly destructive?
Absolutely.
Love the last line, it's so, well, poetic. You really capture the need for humankind to want to understand the world through labeling... the word "demystified" is an excellent word to show this. This is one of my favorite of your poems. I especially like how the first line and the last sandwich the rest.
I like how each line of this poem continues to divide whatever the reader can imagine is being divided.
Maybe this is just me, but the middle lines remind me of a morgue. The cabinet drawers would be where they store the body, while the body is tagged or tabbed. Could division be the death of us?
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