ALREADY A SEMBLANCE
Already a semblance of too many things has
hit me right between the eyes : that shotgun
Jesus riding herd on the masses, that fish with
no lungs, and too many ties; everyone's got a
line into it. I turned around once, on the deck
of a ship, and people already thought I was
mad. Now, years later, all the flowers are gone.
-
Those things which are left are empty echoes
and memories of what I once may have lived. I
said this, I did that - you said, this, you said that.
Everywhere, the jumbled snake of happenstance
runs on in this manner. We bury memories with
every dead body interred. Now, look away,
there is nothing else at all.
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