July 10, 2003
I begin with no thought of beginning,
Only with the vaguest thought of limning
Somehow these days, alive for an instant,
These afternoon days, so suddenly gone.
I can feel my long memories thinning,
Stretched into long nights, with only hope for dawn.
I could now pause, kitten-like,
Auden-like, for epiphany to assault me,
Jeremiah against the nations,
But that would betray the gemutlichkeit
WIth which I watch my life default me
And become lost in lost sensations.
I should end now.
Without thought of beginning,
My words would just spiral and sprawl
Until they lose meaning,
And, jumbled together,
Form a incoherent, unending howl.
the Funny Show
agriculture poem
my life in the ghost of Bush
time-lapsed (part 1)
unreconciled
Images are taken without permission from the fine and trusting folks at Folk Arts of Poland; please purchase something from them. Background music stolen without permission from Epitonic, Basta Music, and just about everywhere else my unscrupulous hands could grab something. No rights reserved.
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