I pass through town expecting nothing from it
The human beings are there, I never know them
But where the trains go, that I know by heart;
Days when I cannot talk become the norm.
Such afternoons! They come from unemployment
And constant wearying thought about the rent,
You grow old even though there’s no enjoyment
And nothing changes, things don’t, summer doesn’t.
A few months pass, your benefits run out
And autumn comes, softly, as slow as gangrene;
Then cash becomes the absolute of thought,
Truly alone. But you go on, and on…
The other humans, they dance through it all.
A clear protective screen surrounds your fate,
Winter returns; their lives seem to be real.
Maybe, somewhere, your future lies in wait.
--
The sun rises and drops upon the town,
We passed the night without deliverance
I hear the buses and the quiet moan
Of social intercourse. I enter presence.
The day will be. The invisible surface
Around our suffering beings in the air
Assumes a hard form at a rapid pace;
And the body, still, the body will be there.
We’ve failed to reinvent our childhood dreams,
But passed through our exhaustions and our passions
There’s no profundity behind what seems.
We're locked down prisoners of our transparence.
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