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I did not smell the apple
behind Proust Madeleine
But your scent yes
a scent of cinnamon
My kippur shall be without apples
And without smell
Dives have no odor
14 Monday Dec 2015
Posted Poetry, Uncategorized
inTags
I did not smell the apple
behind Proust Madeleine
But your scent yes
a scent of cinnamon
My kippur shall be without apples
And without smell
Dives have no odor
08 Tuesday Dec 2015
Posted Uncategorized
in
who may tell the tale
of the old man?
weigh absence in a scale?
mete want with a span?
the sum assess
of the world’s woes?
nothingness
in words enclose?
Watt will not
abate one jot
but of what
of the coming to
of the being at
of the going from
Knott’s habitat
of the long way
of the short stay
of the going back home
the way he had come
of the empty heart
of the empty hands
of the dim mind wayfaring
through barren lands
of a flame with dark winds
hedged about
going out
gone out
of the empty heart
of the empty hands
of the dark mind stumbling
through barren lands
that is of what
Watt will not
abate one jot
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