Long | Nov 07, 2020 My verses stand gawping a bit. I never get used to this. They've lived here long enough.
Nov 07, 2020 In spring they lie flat at the first warmth, they ruin my summer and in autumn they smell of women.
Laugh | Nov 07, 2020 Go now, verses, on your light feet, you have not trodden hard on the old earth where the graves laugh when they see their guests, the one corpse stacked on top of the other. Go now and stagger to her whom I do not know.