Literature
you live
you thought you were about to die,
seized with sudden thirst
so you gripped the leather
seat
,called
someone.
all the while you were looking out of the window,
blue screen of - you know, - errant
waves.
you're nothing.
-maybe we have forgotten the way
a screwdriver swallow
burrows its way through the air,
something that
never even
happens.
stammering and frothing towards some cosmic Death,
there are sandbags to be tossed,
there are animals to be drowned,
yet lightness
is
inconceivable;
there is a liquidity to sadness
but no words to explain
the searing
rib-in, rib-out -
the flight at