Sunday, November 23, 2014

6098. MERCHANT OF PENANCE

MERCHANT OF PENANCE
Oh joy-God there is no good in this :
nothing is saved and nothing is lost, there's
not much difference now in the in-between.
Like someone said in the locker-room, 'We 
are what we are'. Stand before the mirror, shiftless,
look at who you see : I am responsible for nothing,
yet I mourn somehow for all. How can this be?
-
For me, the edging has always been the most
enticing part of life  -  the chance, the reach,
the fumble. Once you never leave the spot marked
home for you, you never leave anywhere else either  -
a fixed fixation on fixing the fixation. There's no
fix there  -  because you're either living it all 
or you're not living at all. I love the way
I can fuck with words.
-
So then  -  find me if you care or can. I'll be sitting
on some broken log in a woods so deep and dark 
you'll have trouble finding yourself, let alone me.
The aura in which I live, you'll just have to see,
because I won't be there at all.

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