Discontent

Quite badly I miss modern music
Because it glows in the mouth
As one hearkens to its uncompositeness
And deals Hegel a mortal blow
For which God rejoices in encores

Modern music is the only thing I miss
From the world that isn't world
Barely could Augustine dwell therein
It's too much wordly
Cheaper than Romantic plays

I'm not bothered by antiquity
By crime, not even by the anti-semites
It only bothers me history oweing to be written down
As though it were a sin
Less than the bounds of Prometheus
And more likely an Archimedean point

But there's still point for celebration
Morningness is also at stake
And buried in the feulleton
That some weather broadcaster wrote
One that didn't know Noach