ALL THOSE
ENDLESS CITIES
My life is in a box, here at my side - and all those
cities that have no edges, now they seem endless;
broader than the width of this box anyway. There
are filed hundreds of envelopes and notes and
letters - postcards and invites too - from 1981.
-
I used to go everywhere, anywhere. I was almost
in demand - as I read these people now, all their
notes and thanks and such seem crazy. Like thanking
a monster for death. But, I was what I was, and I
went at it quite swimmingly, it seems.
-
Now, the salad days have jumped the ledger.
No on has a clue. No one knows a thing.
Just like some Woody Guthrie, all
they do is sing.
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