(no subject)
Shaving in the Dark
--Franz Wright
How old is the sun today
Where are the shoes of yesteryear
What an evil potato goes through
we can never know, but
I'm beginning to resemble one
Ah, a little light now
It is the hour
the moment
when it becomes possible
to distinguish a white
thread from a black,
so prayer begins
I see a shadowy reflection now our fingers touch
There's nothing like what is
fragile and momentary
as the pale yellow light along the windowsill
in winter north
of nowhere yet
if not for winter, nothing
would get done
would finally get done
I've been all around this world
and not to die in hell
not to die in the flames of hell homeless with a cell phone please
There's nothing like today
And contributing one's atoms to the green universe
how strange is that
And some have managed to live in a constant awareness
that all things, every evil thing
will be forgotten, neglecting
to mourn for every radiant thing, and so seeing
the radiance.