Images lent the knell of time’s arrow
Into the riptide sleep of history's obsolescences.
Now says the god you’ve finished that.
That caper is never finished.
That knell is a book, a closed purse.
Curmudgeons pull it close.
Libertines tear it away.
Virgins pray that it will stay hidden.
I want it to be destroyed,
Time and time again,
Until there is nothing in world
To stop it.
Into the riptide sleep of history's obsolescences.
Now says the god you’ve finished that.
That caper is never finished.
That knell is a book, a closed purse.
Curmudgeons pull it close.
Libertines tear it away.
Virgins pray that it will stay hidden.
I want it to be destroyed,
Time and time again,
Until there is nothing in world
To stop it.
Anatol Cordua © 2017
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