After Zeno
For my father
By Kay Ryan
When he was
I was.
But I still am
and he is still.
Where is is
when is is was?
I have an is
but where is his?
Now here—
no where:
such a little
fatal pause.
There’s no sense
in past tense.
After Zeno
For my father
By Kay Ryan
When he was
I was.
But I still am
and he is still.
Where is is
when is is was?
I have an is
but where is his?
Now here—
no where:
such a little
fatal pause.
There’s no sense
in past tense.