16 may. 2010


To sleep and waking
Feel so dull and solid—
No absurd! No buses whizzing
Past the stations that are tall
And looming glassy only
Same soft rain you were expecting
And same time you can’t rewind
That wind that breeds forgetting
And that hunger that breeds future and tricks life.

No rebirth but death
Of rebirths with lame tranquility
Thud of contrast lacking dance
Forgetting dreams unreal, and chance,
This constant finding oneself on
This same couch is our never forgotten strife.

You say because of dreams
The inventors of unreal
we sit painfully smiling as we watch the world turn into past,
That there’s no present, future, only past.

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