March 26, 2023

lent

Because I like pain and suffering, that’s why.
I like sitting alone with my thoughts and my
small hungers and my fears. For like two minutes,
anyway, and then to leave them in exhaust.
I like knowing that there’s more to this city
than I know. I like the desolation, too:
the way St. Paul’s carillon sounds in the long
empty street, how the world sighs because it’s Lent.
Why ride the bus? Because it’s cheap, and I like
thinking of all of the lives I would lead if
I lived up the hill, what I’d do if it rained.


poem


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poem / me imperturbe Easy in the flight of hindsight Knowing which winds blow a true spring And (take this one) which winds outright Lie. I think it was misleading,
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poem / the great Mordant. Descent. So heartbreak, even then, Was known to him. When Bach returned on foot From Lübeck, all he said was he had been To the north to