Before another person thinks to scrap it up, wrinkle it, tear it and throw it away from my life altogether, I'll put it up where nobody and nothing but changing times and technology can touch it. Which is almost more frightening than an actual peson, but more removed from the present and thus less disturbing on the surface. I digress.
Brews up milk on an overcast day
The cogs of that immaculate machine-his mind-
tell him of immortality of living another way.
Wears tattered but neat decaged shirts-pressed,
inspiring mum to gift shop, more or less.
This lifestyle the meeting of only half an hour
Will be enought to imagine his own hermit's tower
Hikers swasddled in warmth will climb a maybe mountain
Asking at the top what has he found in
[l.f. his too short] years, to be the meaning of life?
[l.f. ... ] a brilliant baritone Idunno will be the reply.
--Sometime in July, sometime in London, 2007
Not so much my standard poetry, rather the musings of the moment after meeting him for the first time.
Japan stuff is coming soon.
Friday, April 24, 2009
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