October 21, 2019

• last try to format

  there must be something i can write about quick
  before i leave, something
  that will make it all right-- everything--
  you and me, the world-- all of life--
  before forgetfulness
  spits us out like pips

  every final day is also a first one
  (there are lots of platitudes like that,
  and there are also lots of heads
  on the wall, strangled by picture frames,
  lots of flocks of wild geese
  licked clean by the light)

  it's hard to sort it all out, so i won't
  even try. i just know one or two things
  that are trite but true-- day after day
  we leave ourselves farther and farther behind
  unless someone really loves us. then there is always
  a home to go back to

  • 6:01 am
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