Saturday, 2 February 2013

ONLY THE DEAD HAVE SEEN THE END OF WAR


They do not know it but are doing it.
By the curious sea always over the green rise
Or in the evening or at night they are patients. 
 
The verdugo remains a puzzle; his way leads through the
Entrance to the ghost train, peculiarities not known
To us in detail. This undiscovered connection is in 
 
 
Reality continuous, the complete determination
Of such movement; form not required of us.
Food shortages. Bad luck; dreaming the grand rational drama, 
 
The ever interesting topic; whilst the mouthpiece from an
Impertinent beyond regales the most important sector in the universe,
Glass and iron. I say: stay for the signe, for when the glare of the day has gone
 
 
Reading these late summer nights in Vespertilia; arcadian blues,
Source of relatively pleasant thoughts, growing scarlet with greater agency.

No comments:

Post a Comment