982 5 4
|
You left your quiet life for a home in the city.
|
9687
|
That blue is not a colour but a territory of sight.
|
6744
|
forgotten words/
washed away in linen’s laundry.
|
103994
|
When we are given eternity, as a night is eternal
|
76822
|
They’ve got the tourists
On the top deck of the bus
Wrapped up in large yellow
Plastic garbage bags
Riding through the City in the rain
The yellow bags flapping in the wind
Yelling in the numerous languages
At the top of the world
The to
|
27732
|
ghosts keeping watch to ensure no changes;
their favoured tables safeguarded
with a Reserviert card
to ward off the living.
|
104485
|
the emergence of the Beatles and the Vietnam War
sad human electricity
no buzz of any wheel
|
20274
|
The day doesn’t budge in its enormity.
|
15396
|
To forget how it is to travel or to get there.
|
82553
|
In the neon light and barroom shadows,
|
6262110
|
--"Look at us," she murmurs. "Tristan and Isolde without the adultery."
--"Well, you can't have everything."
--"No? I heard otherwise."
|
67265
|
Prospero's in his cell and I'm in mine.
He drowns his books, I'm drowning in mine.
He exercises his power–I'm powerless to exercise.
|
9591612
|
It's the little things that trip us
up: a small hole in a level field,
an innocuous root in a well-trod
path, a disinclined sidewalk...
|
7412314
|
Life, like a kite string, is slipping out of
your hands
|
92422
|
The first days of October are ordinary in the way that milk just hours away from spoiling is ordinary milk. You can baptise your cornflakes with it, but part of you knows the whole thing is just shy of almost right.
|
