All things forever remain
in this changeable universe outside my own

not that I see how it can matter so much either way
or how it all could have had the chance
of happening to me differently
for I still keep on losing
the faces the places the names
of all people that from a distance
were my most intimate friends

now it's journey's end
I'm still alone
not drowning in self-pity (far too merciless for that)
nor in anything else (too much of a coward for that)
never went near the sea
never meant a single person I didn't love at first sight
such a cowardly brave
someone
journey's end
no one asks no one asks
no one wonders
no one calls no one calls
no one writes
walking alone

cowardly wanderer

move on

Still no Autumn, still the living's rough

Waiting

Je Start (Suavemente)

I thought it could not happen. Never going to write again, never be in touch in love in sight again. Ever. Then sudden dawn, splendour of grey clouds. A world unborn is your best friend, lover and own blank page.
Hence here, to this.
Moonlight kissing softly wasps' flightpaths across the deeply unautumnal october sky.
Me within, cat inside, all flowerpots have gone to join the handicapped rose-bushes that I dare not challenge to arise and walk, let alone grow, once more.

Purpose? There is none. Blow by blowjob by no-job account of a hedonistic lifestyle screwing you up because you ain't livin' up to its premise. Such fun-filled, surprising stuff. "innit?"

Possibly I'll quit tomorrow. O aty on, log in, log on, stay turned on.
Very Unlikely


we'll C


MMIX
JNSV