Forever.
You know.
You decide, you
go. When you come back,
everything is the same.
Having felt through the anxiety of
changed rhythms and
plain speeches and
hurtling. Into the morning
with phantoms and fantasies
up around your head
(though coming thick and ordinary from mine)
-- a sign of the times, he, thirty-one, says
though she says,
"Welcome to the '70s."
No comments:
Post a Comment