We who with songs beguile your pilgrimage / And swear that Beauty lives though lilies die, / We Poets of the proud old lineage / Who sing to find your hearts, we know not why ... (James Elroy Flecker)

21.3.26

Coping with the World

 

Listening to the thin squeak 

of my radio turned low

playing non-stop jazz 

all day and night, but not

to disturb the neighbours … 

I fill my dark with

other people’s dreams.

I read, too – stories that all 

end happily, they are all alike. 

Afterwards, I forget them.



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