A Pause

Why does it seem right to say something like a marathon of whispers?
Or a worship for tombs of forgotten shippers and warehouse men and house arrest clerks?
Why this dependence to a glory you cannot trace from a real estate tax is now considered
To be what should be, to be what you know could be very good for you. Enjoy discounts
At a price your family would love. Mosquitoes. Members of a Wedding. What's the difference?

Labels: Franz Kafka

Posted by Richard J.A. at 12:36:00 AM | Permalink | Comments

Follow the innocent
Disown their mothers and die.

Patronize the candles your grandchildren bestowed
Upon your grave
Is a lion
miniature
To symbolize your failed
Access

To Standbys.

I am a liquor for which you blame your tense days.
I have found someone else
To lose this all for you.
All at once, beneath a shoulder

You felt
To be yours

Is a dream

Posted by Richard J.A. at 12:11:00 AM | Permalink | Comments

Posted by Richard J.A. at 12:16:00 PM | Permalink | Comments