Tuesday, May 31, 2011

fleurs mélancolie, comme Baudelaire

Didn't think I'd live this long
so a lot of good things wore out
or went wrong
Wore Out Shoes
before I could repair or fix them
before i could apply the brakes, slow down
before I paid my duns and overdues,
before I learned the proper use
of the quick-set elegance of here and now.
I lived in the past or in the time ahead
That’s where my thinking led
But in the Now I sort of almost
Basically more or less
Kind of nearly mostly
just screwed around.

With everything and everyone that
Bumped into me
or passed the corner of my eye;
Or spoke a word, or gave or took
without a thought, if any,
just fear, guilt, shame, doubt.
I never finished the book
that told me how to work it out
The thinker thinks, the unthinker gives a look
A wink a flatter - what’s the matter?
Never saw a form before without
Substance, without weight or matter?



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