Eyes can be bruised or hurt
by people as well as things.
Better to live in the dark
I sit on a wooden bench
watching the passers by-
sometimes the whole families.
I fed up with light.
This is a winter month.
First on the calendar.
I shall begin to speak
when I'm fed up with the dark.
IV
things are more pleasant. Their
outside are neither good
nor evil. And their insides
reveal neither good nor bad.
The core of things is dry rot.
Dust. A wood borer. And
Brittle moth-wings. Thin walls.
Uncomfortable to the hand.
Dust. When you switch lights on,
there's nothing but dust to see.
That's true even if thing
is sealed hermetically.
VII
Summing their angles up
as surprise to us,
things drop away from man's
world-a world made with words.
things do not move, or stand.
That's our delirium.
Each thing's a space, beyond
which there can be no thing.
A thing can be battered, burned,
gutted, and broken up.
Thrown out. and yet the thing
never will yell, "Oh Fuck!"
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