2016-04-14

詩 Congealed Pathos

Simple objects
Anchoring ideas,
Dreams, nightmares,
Things I don't want to relive...
...but have to.

Emotions settle like dust
Or like rain
Or carelessly sprayed paint
On people, places, and things
And neither all your piety...
...nor wit
Can coax them to dissolve again
Back into the the thin air.

Why must I live in their pollution
Of my pristine surroundings,
The second-hand smoke
Of their self-indulgence?

...or they in mine?

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