In Conversation with Wisława Szymborska’s POSSIBILITIES

https://www.szymborska.org.pl/en/wislawa/selected-poems/possibilities/

I prefer movies. I love books more.

I prefer cats. For here, we part. I do not prefer cats, at all. I am a dog person, through and through.

I prefer the oaks along the Warta. I’ve never been to Poland. If I ever go, I will look for the oaks along the Warta.

I prefer Dickens to Dostoyevsky. I have to admit, I prefer Dostoyevsky for all sorts of reasons. It all started with Notes from the Underground. All that suffering!

I prefer myself liking people to myself loving mankind. Me too. It’s just more practical. The dopamine hits are infinite–no waiting for Godot.

I prefer keeping a needle and thread on hand, just in case. I just use masking tape.

I prefer the color green. Yes, verdant pigments are beautiful, but blue radiates infinitude.

I prefer not to maintain that reason is to blame for everything. Got to agree!

I prefer exceptions. Two in a row, Yes, Yes, Yes!

I prefer to leave early. Of course. Sometimes I prefer to leave even before I arrive.

I prefer talking to doctors about something else. Doctors don’t have time to chit chat.

I prefer the old fine-lined illustrations. I don’t know, they are sometimes so boring and reductive.

I prefer the absurdity of writing poems to the absurdity of not writing poems. I prefer plain absurdity. It’s abundance these days.

I prefer, where loves concerned, nonspecific anniversaries that can be celebrated every day. Why not?

I prefer moralists who promise me nothing. Good wager.

I prefer cunning kindness to the over-trustful kind. I don’t know…I’ve been surprised and disappointed by both.

I prefer the earth in civvies. I live in ‘civvies.’

I prefer conquered to conquering countries. Hmmm…worthy of deeper contemplation. Conquering countries have an abysmal track record, but being conquered isn’t all that much of a relief.

I prefer having some reservations. It depends on the restaurant.

I prefer the hell of chaos to the hell of order. Got to say, hell is hell, and it is a smidgeon of both.

I prefer Grimms’ fairy tales to the newspapers’ front pages. That wasn’t the case until recently. Now the front page is as frightening as the Grimm stories.

I prefer leaves without flowers to flowers without leaves. For sure.

I prefer dogs with uncropped tails. Absolutely.

I prefer light eyes, since mine are dark. Nope. Love dark eyes.

I prefer desk drawers. Until I have to move.

I prefer many things that I haven’t mentioned here to many things I’ve also left unsaid. And the beat goes on and on.

I prefer zeroes on the loose to those lined up behind a cipher. Well, I just don’t know…

I prefer the time of insects to the time of stars. Nope. I prefer star time and the impossible infinitude.

I prefer to knock on wood. Another nope. Knocking on wood has not proven to offer me any respite or confidence in a preferred outcome.

I prefer not to ask how much longer and when. At my age, that is the truth.

I prefer keeping in mind even the possibility that existence has its own reason for being. YES, YES, YES