THE CRUSH:
Without the dark,
All-encompassing,
comforting,
How would we know
light?
If I could not see
your face as I rise in the morning, I doubt
whether I would get up
at all.
Such a rose.
HOPE:
Now endure this ray of
sunshine,
get up, get up,
a new light is taking
flight.
To mope/to wallow, perhaps
just fallow,
there is more to life
than this.
THE REGRESSIONAL SLIP:
Follow perpetually
(there is no such thing),
This contemptible
affliction.
The crush will. Become
a dramaturgical fixation,
despair and inability
to go forth –
even from bed.
Every day.
PO
No comments:
Post a Comment