That to Philosophize is to Learn to Die : Magazine : A Public Space

That to Philosophize is to Learn to Die

Poetry Elisa Gabbert

There was a metal band that was just called Death.

I used to think I wasn’t afraid of death, but actually what I wasn’t afraid of was
being dead.

You can’t attend your own funeral, but you have to attend your own death.

You are going to die of something.

I hope I die of boredom in my sleep.

Do you ever remember being so excited about something in the future that you
were afraid you might die before it happened?

I mean, who cares, of course, democracy is dead.

Death wish, free will, cause and effect, happiness as misery.

I wonder if the wealthy dinosaurs were the last to die.

Hemingway titled a book Death in the Afternoon, which is the best possible
name for a cocktail, then invented a cocktail named after it. I am extremely jealous of this whole move.

I don’t actually want to die laughing.

“Only one image of Virginia Eliza Clemm Poe has been authenticated: a
watercolor portrait painted several hours after her death.”

There was 100% a culture of dead bodies are cool.

Is a beautiful woman still beautiful even if all men everywhere are dead?

Vanity ends with death.

Who wants to be present in the moment? I want to die when an asteroid hits
my cryogenic chamber.

Naps, but for death.

You can’t actually sleep when you’re dead.

The secret to immortality is boredom. If you’re bored enough you’ll never die.

Die with dignity like Benjamin Guggenheim.

Death by attrition. War of natural causes.

Death has an anchoring, as in dragging down, effect, so, don’t die.

“Sex” and “death” kind of rhyme.

You can sleep in your deathbed.

Sappho: “To die is evil. / The gods think so, / Else they would die.”

Cry now, die later. Move to Europe, smoke and die cool.

I want to die someday.

I don’t want to die laughing.
No. 28

No. 28


Elisa Gabbert is the author of the poetry collections The Word Pretty, L’Heure Bleue, or the Judy Poems, The Self Unstable (all Black Ocean), and The French Exit (Birds LLC); as well as the forthcoming essay collection The Unreality of Memory (FSG).


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