I asked a few teachers at Spinoza HS
the meaning of life
shouldn’t have
the answers not suited to my style
like
money, pussy, power, smart kids,
a plasma TV fully paid for,
meeting Madonna.
My quest lasted a week
when Bill Greve said,
“How come you didn’t ask me, Bernstein? ”
Because I didn’t want to hear
the answer
I said to myself
after all
his wife of eight years
ran off with a man
whose name Greve never found out
leaving him with a disabled daughter
brain hurt
when deprived of oxygen
at birth
and a mother now 83
suffering from dementia
developed soon after her husband
passed away
finally the list completed
when he slipped on ice
injuring his back
with only pain killers
keeping him from total destruction.
Not answering my question
he said, “You? ”
“The meaning of life? ”
“I need to know, ” he whispered.
Never should have started this business
I moaned to myself
and now Greve trembling before me.
In any case whatever I said
wouldn’t ease his pain
life didn’t work that way
still Martin Buber, a hero from my college days,
insisted on a response to a soul
who called out to you
so I said, “Just gotta go on.”
Then that slight turn of the lips
his breath heaved into a sigh,
“I’ll try.”

Charles Chaim Wax

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/always-trying-to-find-stuff-for-my-poetry/