They hang; a heavy weightlessness,
like long forgotten memories
seeking renewal. The man sits,
beside the window, looking
...
Night falls; the day disintegrates. All in a moment.
Have I been sleeping, or, is it a miracle? No-one can answer for me. I close the shutters of my mind, but always there is something. Always something there; no way of escape. Soon there will be another day, I know that – the mind cannot rest, but today, all I have done is forgotten. I can feel it, always the burden is there. Today, always there is a brooding yesterday, tomorrow will be another today.
...
Wrapped futilely
in the realm of beauty sleep –
dawn rarely dawns on me.
...
Observing the precarious
existence
of household plants
...
That day you found
time’s precipice
and never faltered –
...
Whirling, it made the day
seem shorter than
all other days had been.
...
I sway, as if to breathe
the passing breezes tail -
the water sighs
...
Too late, even to sell
himself. The air is silent.
Distinct servility
...