Why Forego All Masters Poem by Bengt O Björklund

Why forego all masters of oblivion
on your weary way down dark river’s bank?
A thousand sophisticated tears
have already flowed in vain.
The final call will soon
roll over all human condition
and nothing but broken tail lights
will guide your stray soul
concluding its day.

Venereal seas that died long before breakfast
fills you with a temporal disgust
and a lust that is nothing but a slow burning radiance
that jelly fish hold in serious contempt.
Nothing but continuance holds you
from the fretting thoughts of falling,
nothing but falling keeps you
from staring at the end.