Saturday, November 13, 2004

1989

Late through the morning
I find no comfort in my sleep
I still wander through devenir
Who am I to please, indeed?

Still didn't get a haircut
In still, smoked, I've been
Devoid of thought, enfin
I no longer believe the time.

Neither remember whether I lived,
Nor the tongue I now speak,
Happily gay, even queer,
A child lived thorough in me.

Below his arms, I could falter
Above the earth, I hasten
Ever since grew old my answers,
I dwell'd in the moon, the sea, oh! father.

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