Originally written in 1981 or 1982. Never posted; not certain it has ever been performed. Significantly revised here.
This is not a face I love
so I’ll gladly give it to you.
Pull it from my head.
Put it on your own.
I don’t need another, people would just
recognize me then, don’t need that.
Would rather look at them bare
and then scare them away
with my front skull.
Gradations are odious.
My face is all gradation
and subtlety and neither
is a thing I love.
I surrender them
with this new wide smile.
The flesh we devote to expression
is annoying and extraneous.
I would gladly dispense with emotions
beyond the largest of them:
ecstasy, terror, rage, despair.
In the new world
we won’t need subtlety.
In the new world
we’ll stick with ecstasy, terror,
rage, and despair. These
will be our default settings.
Will guide our appetites.
Will drive our businesses.
Will admonish our gods.
Will break us in.
This is not a face I love.
I’ll gladly give it to you
but you should ask yourself
before you take it:
in this new world
why have a face at all?
Dark Matter 
September 18th, 2014 at 6:28 am
I prefer not to be part of a world that clings to rage, terror, and despair with a questionable ecstasy. One must have passion or the world will cease to go around!
September 18th, 2014 at 7:31 am
I don’t disagree. But I think that it’s sadly here, and we have to deal with it.
I was very young when I first wrote this poem. It’s hard for me to recall the specific motivation behind it now. But I can tell you that what inspired my return to it, and what informed the extensive revision, was a comment I read in an article about a week or so ago (I think) that said that outrage and terror were good for business — certainly in the media, but also in the sales of various products like guns, alcohol, and a few others. It was a passing comment in a larger article, but it was enough to trigger my thoughts, and to send me hunting for this poem.
I will say that seeing certain photographs of the grape harvest in Languedoc gave me some hope for the continuation of a more measured existence out there, somewhere…!
September 18th, 2014 at 7:46 am
I understand much more than you imagine. I’ve been here nearly seven years and in that time, much of what goes on back there is like a bad nightmare. There is a different way. I’m not saying things are perfect but it is so very different that you would have to spend some time abroad and see for yourself. When you are living in chaos you are kept shaken, rattled and confused. You have to step away and really see what those outside have seen.
Bon courage et bonne chance!
September 18th, 2014 at 8:26 am
Sadly, probably not going to be an option for me any time soon, if ever, for a variety of reasons I can’t really share. I’d head back to Venice in a heartbeat if it was…
No, I’m here. And my job is to make it somewhat more bearable for myself and others while I am.
September 18th, 2014 at 8:59 am
I do understand that as well.
I spent years working in Child Protection and other agencies trying to make things more bearable. Then an accident released me and gave me an option or perhaps an ultimatum. I grabbed it and ran. I wish you the best. Just remember life is too short and as far as any of us know, there is only one. I learned I deserve to be happy and for the first time, I am.
September 18th, 2014 at 9:07 am
Good for you. Always good to hear.
September 18th, 2014 at 10:02 am
A votre santé! (to your health!)
September 18th, 2014 at 7:49 am
BTW, when I was there, my poetry was about surviving abuse, pain, sadness… Now I write about joy, beauty and passion. As you know, we write where we are. I could not write as I do now over there. Léa