133.
Heal like an open window an opus
number a lost quartet
the sheen of shadow as if a word once
spoken
the leaf speaks louder than the tree
the thing you need to know you never
trust
Nietzsche in the rose garden Bolzano
smell of asphalt
suicide because birds can walk but
men can’t fly
beautiful vow I vaunt that vaults to
heaven
shield me from the hailstorm broken
scraps of human will
because the will can live without its
man
bring me unconsenting to my deed
a vow is medicine finally a use for
pain
hawthorn berries to help my love’s
heart.
134.
We’re still in opera that city where
the music counts
intervals between the notes men do
things to each other
a ring of rising thirds a single leap
a ninth
girls turn into goddesses gods sweat
to keep up with them
a handful of sunlight a head full of
wheat
sleepy grain sleepy sunshine morning
comes in vain
in sleep the words are hard to read
even a woman on the sofa what does
she mean by sitting there
or the one on the floor reading the
paper she is the news
touch the over-energy, energumen
each one has
flows into other making both strong
it is the breath of the daemon who
lives in our lives.
