Wait, for now.
Distrust everything, if you have to.
But trust the hours. Haven't they
carried you everywhere, up to now?
Personal events will become interesting again.
Hair will become interesting.
Pain will become interesting.
Buds that open out of season will become lovely again.
Second-hand gloves will become lovely again,
their memories are what give them
the need for other hands. And the desolation
of lovers is the same: that enormous emptiness
carved out of such tiny beings as we are
asks to be filled; the need
for the new love is faithfulness to the old.
Wait.
Don't go too early.
You're tired. But everyone's tired.
But no one is tired enough.
Only wait a while and listen.
Music of hair,
Music of pain,
music of looms weaving all our loves again.
Be there to hear it, it will be the only time,
most of all to hear,
the flute of your whole existence,
rehearsed by the sorrows, play itself into total exhaustion.
Congratulations! Your recitation has been created. Let's wait and see what others think of your performance.
sergey May 20, 2013 at 7:45am
This is awful and robratterman sucks!
Reply
robert-bobert May 21, 2013 at 3:10am
Yeah, this guy is just nuts!
robratterman May 21, 2013 at 3:12am
YOU BOTH ARE FIRED!!!