NOTES OF A SECOND RATE POET

...It`s snowing, the boy said. He looked at the sky. A single gray flake sifting down.He caught it in his hand and watched it expire there like the last host of christendom. (From Corman McCarthy, THE ROAD)

December 11, 2007

HUMANOID WISHES FOR A NEARBY FUTURE, 11:

From the abyss of naivity I wish there was no such thing as a white tune, from the abyss of naivity I wish there was no such thing as a black tune, from the abyss of my senses, I sometimes wish there was only music.

morten at 21:41

NOTES OF A SECOND RATE POET

December 11, 2007

No comments:

Post a Comment