Moons, ivories, instruments, roses,lamps and the line of Dürer, 

the nine figures and the variable zero,

I shall pretend that these things exist.
I shall pretend that in the past they were

Persepolis and Rome and that fine

sand measured the fate of the crenel

that the centuries of iron undid.


I shall pretend the arms and the pyre

of the epic and the heavy seas

that gnaw from the pillars of the Earth. 
I shall pretend there are others. It’s a lie.

It’s only you. You, my misfortune

and my fortune, inexhaustible and pure.



December 14, 2015

Let me be lonely.
Leave me here alone in the dark backroom of the day,
Amidst the tumult and rags of the evening,
When the sky is of grey misery
And the moon is lost in the closet, tangled and torn. 
Let me sit by the window and drink,
That solitary cup of coffee
And pretend to enjoy the solitude.
Yes, leave me here to hear what hollowness sounds
The creeping void of forever and unknown.
Yes, leave me here astray and cold
For the great hearts are no more
And only beats are the beats of clock
Reminders of when I have to walk through the final door.