Averno / Louise Glück

Averno

Louise Glück

Averno. Ancient name Avernus. A small crater lake,

ten miles west of Naples, Italy; regarded by the

ancient Romans as the entrance to the underworld.

You die when your spirit dies.

Otherwise, you live.

You may not do a good job of it, but you go on —

something you have no choice about.

When I tell this to my children

they pay no attention.

The old people, they think —

this is what they always do:

talk about things no one can see

to cover up all the brain cells they’re losing.

They wink at each other;

listen to the old one, talking about the spirit

because he can’t remember anymore the word for chair.

It is terrible to be alone.

I don’t mean to live alone —

to be alone, where no one hears you.

I remember the word for chair.

I want to say — I’m just not interested anymore.

I wake up thinking

you have to prepare.

Soon the spirit will give up —

all the chairs in the world won’t help you.

I know what they say when I’m out of the room.

Should I be seeing someone, should I be taking

one of the new drugs for depression.

I can hear them, in whispers, planning how to divide the cost.

And I want