A Doing of the Meaning

It’s actually not performative,

Thinks the listener under the tree

Near a celebrating family,

Cake and ice cream, four generations,

Great-grandfather the pleased, anxious host.

The sun shines. Chimes stir in a light breeze.

I usually get there earlier

Because my hamster in my classroom

Gets out of its cage at night, says one,

Apparently a step-granddaughter,

Apparently a grade school teacher.

Oh sure, it’s performative, of course,

The careful social positioning,

The playing parts of the family.

All that is. But the meaning isn’t,

Not the attribution of meaning,

Beyond information, past displays

And modulated tones of voices.

Is it possible to have a whole

Backyard family party without

Any further reflection on it

Or its meaning? Maybe not. Still, past

The performance of being human,

It seems, thinks the listener, there might

Lurk a distinct kind of behavior

That brings the meanings to things. Hamster.

Classroom. Dark chocolate wavy frosting.

Meaning is not insignificant,

But it’s other than signifying.

Meaning gets out of its cage at night.