Fragile underneath old-timey
Wan god of war and leftist lover
Of pale poetry
Pilgrim bus station -
Dressed all taffeta - drunken
Police Methadone
Today the nameday giver of poetry
Wending my way northwards - to hell -
Windy the modern onset - underground -
Twisting and turning now facing East
Now Vespers - Now the roaring clotted
End of day
Now the reedy couple -
Junky rushed - Screaming Desires
Thrown packet of cigarettes
Into the face -
Obscenities hurled
Along the platform
Young woman on a bench makes
Herself small, not easy to see
While screaming they care not
Only intent on each others failings
And so ignore as she sends messages
To her friends
A thin silver cross
Between rounded breasts.
an ymaginaire blog
(Hobarts Colden Eupraxia)
nel tempo de li dei falsi e bugiardi
If someone were to say that ignorance is a lack of understanding, he is mistaken. Ignorance is the condition of being wretched and beguiled.
Thou hast conquered, O pale Galilean; the world has grown grey from thy breath;
Thursday, April 16, 2009
Woden
gotta love bus stations all of life in one block. must have written this on a Wednesday.
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