conversation on a random bench, part two

the decline of the author



I know

he said


There will be a time when everything is being deciphered differently.

Every single meaning will dissolve like clouds and fall down as rain


but this time it is I who is being written. I am the impression that will transform itself



I replied

knowing that his Rilke translations grew out of his very amputations

as the only thing still alive


while the rest of him filled glass jars of lukewarm spirits

along with the twelve tribes of Israel

Poetry by Ghost of Heino
Read 568 times
Written on 2017-10-05 at 15:31

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I like this, too, especially toward the end, the vividnesses.

one trick pony The PoetBay support member heart!
i don't know how many times i can read this, i'm beyond counting. my comment is this: i will continue to read it. will i make sense of it? we'll see. why would i keep at it? because of the title, and b/c it's there (no, that's too easy), b/c thoughts needn't be ordered to be significant. how's that?

emotionally—it makes me want to hibernate.