And the Time Is: Poems, 1958-2013

The Contrarians

212 The Contrarians On the one hand, cure— the hopes and risks of cure. Otherwise, predictable pain— ongoing, sudden or ultimate. Only a masochist would opt for pain—and a strong masochist at that. But what if cure becomes a lesser or even worse choice than pain? Griffin, the diabetic, learned that amputation of one leg would add a decade to his life. “Forget the years,” he said, “I’d rather die—entire . . .” Knowing she had to drive him ninety miles for dialysis thrice weekly, Sigmund decided it was time. The drive was aging Jane, and all for what? One night he said, “Enough’s enough,” and then he kissed her. For eight more days they were as close as ever. . . . Trapped high in the South Tower with no way down or up and fire and smoke behind, they held each other’s hands like newlyweds a hundred floors above Manhattan in September and jumped. . . . 213 To those who say survival is the highest law of life, I offer the above. Plus one . . . Soldiers have risked or sacrificed their lives to save the lives of men they could have just let die. Call theirs an act of greater love or call it anything you please. To all who claim that life amounts to nothing more than not dying, I say there are exceptions. ...