Tag Archives: Meaning

13.11.15

but it’s no use
he thinks

to count among the friends
and relatives
who were lucky enough
to walk through the hinges of
someone else’s history

it’s no use
to live the life
as if the life
was the only life

it’s no use
to be afraid

it’s no use
to spill coffee on the floor
to break a pencil
to drink a can of oil
to claw at one’s shoulder
to picture Yeats’ tomb

it’s no use
to live the life
as if the life
was the only life

it’s no use
he mutters

but
is there still use
for a clogged throat

is there use
for a mechanical heart

is there use
in yellow saliva

is there use
if we still find the poem


Al&Bane

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poetry for vagrants and shamans