blindfolded--i walk
around a knife store
--deserted and archaic
sometimes i dont know why i'm here
no.
many times i dont know why i'm here
[[[[all the time]]]]
it's a lonely trip
(no one's made it in years)
a butter knife would be
the refreshing, cool side of the pillow
anticipate once and limbs are lost
i'm here; i have no choice
but i can't reach out.
i, i, i
- steven
- "Seeing that before long I must confront humanity with the most difficult demand ever made of it, it seems indispensable to me to say who I am. Really, one should know it, for I have not left myself "without testimony." But the disproportion between the greatness of my task and the smallness of my contemporaries has found expression in the fact that one has neither heard nor even seen me. I live on my own credit; is it perhaps a mere prejudice that I live? ... I need only to speak with one of the "educated" who come to the Upper Engadine for the summer, and I am convinced that I do not live ... Under these circumstances I have a duty against which my habits, even more the pride of my instincts, revolt at bottom, namely, to say: Hear me! For I am such and such a person. Above all, do not mistake me for someone else!" - Nietzsche, Ecce Homo
1 comment:
i love the brackets-- reminds me of volume being raised and emphasized... very cool.
the isolated "no." is a standout, awesomeness in my brain. i appreciate it. this poem is great, steven. i wish i could have it here as i comment and read back all the lines in my head. it's probably your best. you showed more with using less, ya know?
well done, i'm serious :)
Post a Comment