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the dying

the dying of the eye

that lifts mercury myth

above slow encounter

is a clock’s breath

a last childish prayer

fuming at the counter


resting on saturated pillows

where sallow reefs no more

leave contentions good dead bye

in hallowed eye on to

that skirts circular bends

with ways of no defense

–  toil-tools and terror –


wasting lifetimes and dreams

begins with folly

boiling blood youth

and aftermath

pale on the whiteboard

wanting dark funerals

and mad pyres


so time it seemed

concurred with essence

or its consecutive in law ways

of doing the right thing

in the right eye

by contemporary standard


the I and its rolling

against the turbomilitant

instead of I do not

is such a crowd dare

to the insignified

dying to here solidify

alert beside

the incongruous

of a not I


I am not the I

nor the you beside me

I am the eye

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Läst 231 gånger och applåderad av 1 personer
Publicerad 2015-01-13 21:48

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