Time is clouding the world into a deep exhausting nap; new earth is struggling, running clockwise.
The World
Nothing
I read and reread. I write nothing. Will I break through someday?
Casualness
That Machiavellian casualness, that tragic joy it would be my security and my misery.
Marriage
The very word marriage, is a blight. We are conditioned to only be aware of ourselves as individuals and are not satisfied to leave behind the careless and transitory love of the opposite sex.
My Jealousy
Her smell in my bed the night before was the beginning of my jealousy.
My Own Prison
A grim night in my own prison, so much time shut up in the horror of a nightmare as I feel powerless.
Loneliness In Me
My poetry, my best writing, is the produce of loneliness in me.
Silly Troubles
You throw aside your life to silly troubles and complain time isn't enough for you. What could you accomplish by that?
The Future
I'm afraid the faded world is silent proof the future may depend on the present.
Alone
Alone, month by month, loneliness burned.
