The Metaphysicians of South Jersey
by Stephen Dunn Because in large cities the famous truths already had been plumbed and debated, the metaphysicians of South Jersey lowered their gaze, just tried to be themselves. They'd gather at coffee shops in the Vineland and deserted shacks deep in the Pine Barrens . Nothing they came up with mattered so they were free to be eclectic, and as odd as getting to the heart of things demanded. They walked undisguised in the boardwalk. At the Hamilton Mall they blended with the bargain-hunters and the feckless. Almost everything amazed them, the last hour of a country fair, blueberry fields covered with mist. They sought the approximate weight of sadness, its measure and coloration. But they liked a good ball game too, well pitched, lots of zeros on the score board. At night when they lay down, exhausted and enthralled, their spouses knew it was too soon to ask any hard questions. Come breakfast, as always, the metaphysicians would begin to list the many s...