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I have always backed off from the word.
In the Thirties Europe meant French. But was it only then? Not in earlier centuries? A bloody lesson learned that Europe was Balmazújváros as well as Notre…
The Dark Ages are looming. Do you hear, feel it, person of feeling,
The whisper of the dust slowly creeping, the distant smell of Sulphur?—
And that anguish fading in the air, the heart and the…
Day and night—
Shivering, we wait in bitter day
For moonlit night,
For the caressing moon.
Quivering, we wait in angry night—
For the sunlit day,
For the warming sun.
Day and night—
We must loom…
Is it any wonder that the sick are so pure and tender,
gazing across vast distances, seeing things that no one else does,
staying up at night, and smiling in the darkness,
as they caress their beds…
Traveling and returning. In the
Dirt paths of her forehead
Railroad trains anchor, yellow
Carriages locomotive flowers
In the fields of liberated Europe
Traveling and returning. In the shadows
Betw…
I’m no longer the man that once was. I am the one I precede,
An approximate continuation of the selfsame countenance.
I continue walking without him. At times I run in the night,
Trying to break my…
Blessed art Thou, Lord, our God,
King of the Universe,
Who has kept us and protected us,
and supported us until this day
it would be better we had never seen.
You deprived us of nothing,
neither…
The one who whispers in automobiles
Causes streetlamps to tremble with thanksgiving as he kneels
And brings their harsh hauteur low as they boast
At the hour of perfect darkness
At the height of the…
Mother, there’s a tedium today,
some sadness that’s got into everything,
even an ambitious man’s dreams
show signs of a slow despair.
Mother, try loving
your self-despising son
on a day he’s alone
an…
From the top of a spire’s tower
A ringing’s heard—once. Again.
In the chasms of night and land of snow
A little village sunken low.
Overnight, human isles of rest
Warmed by the straw.
Close with…