Visiting Sartre Again
Well, Monsieur J.P. Sartre,
I come to visit you again,
After these 41 years—then
I was studying French over
At the “Alliance Francaise”
On Avenue Raspail, and
Now, retired from a weary,
Workout of the world, I pass
Again by this Montparnasse
Cemetery on this glorious fall
Day of “golden grove unleaving,”
As an English poet once put it.
Your stone was easy to find,
Just a few steps to the right
From the western gate, but like
Your famous story, you chose
A place with your back to “The wall,”
A convenient lot, to pass by, unlike
Poor Maupassant, whose fiction,
So sorry to say, I enjoyed more than
Yours—he’s over in an muddled,
Middle area, where I searched
For an hour and still couldn’t find,
But since I was here last, I see
That you have been joined by
Your friend, Simone Beauvoir,
A situation reminding of something
I thought insightful when you
Once wrote, “That if you’re lonely
When alone, then you know
You’re in bad company,” I guess
You didn’t care to find that out
For an eternity, and so much
The better in a crowded city by
The Seine river, for if one stone’s
Good, then one works better for two.
I recall when I was reading your
Writing back at my university, you
Lamented that “Humans are condemned
To be free,” and I thought, wow, that’s
A heavy thought, but now that my
My autumns are as faded as Baudelaire’s
Dust, which lies under a simple stone
Just a few minutes away, I think
That of all the notions to base
A philosophy on, yours that proclaims
“Humans are condemned to be free,”
I believe that’s I’m going to pass on.
The Sound of England
An epiphany moment
Was that morning when
Speaking the word “land,”
But hearing the sound
Change when I placed
“Land” together and
After “Eng” to a sound
That sounded like “Lund,”
And asking myself outloud:
Why did the vowel sound
Change? That is to say, why
When we speak in sentence
Does “Eng-land” become
The sound of “Eng-lund?”
And asking myself why
To no avail, so turning
To anyone who walked
By—tell me, Ramon,
If you know—why did
that sound change?
Land to Lund, why land
To lunch, I mean to say…
What is about English I do not
Know? England to Englund?
I heard no words to answer,
But the echo of my question
Turned me down a long
Linguistic trail I’d never hiked,
Much less explored:
The sound system of English,
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