POEM: The Letters (unreplied) to Samuel Beckett

Dear Beckett,

I want to understand

language the way you do:

half sensing, half sentences

that carry greater gravity

than syntax and grammar.

Dear Beckett,

Remember Murphy?

I wish I could.

His memory fades in

a black hole

that was five years ago.

I blame a wanton sense of


rather than the


Murphy hated so.

Dear Beckett,

Really though…

I lost my best friend –

Exuberance –

to a soul as loud as she was

and to a Nobel Laureate.

Dear Beckett,

How can I regain my Exuberance again?

Should I win an award?

Will that work?

Dear Beckett,

Your silence frightens.

Did I say something to offend?

Dear Beckett,

Hello? Can you help please?

Some philosophy you’d impart

will certainly help my nerves ease!

Dear Beckett,

Am I crazy to wait this long?

I’ll wait.

Dear Beckett,

I’m waiting…

Dear Beckett,

I waited.

Dear Beckett,

Forget it.


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