A Lifetime in Seventeen Fragments (Pt. 2)


A train glides through a cobalt blue ocean

Past an espalier of streetlights.

Not only a perfect moment,

But maybe the purpose of life.



The mist hangs heavy on the mountaintop:

A widow’s veil for Armageddon night,

While in a cave, a lad and a blue-haired girl

Make passionate love.



The fountain of youth is not a fountain at all

But a car at nightfall

And a valley below.



Somebody has hung snakes in the trees

Just like draperies, or lametta.

And indeed: With beautifully glistening teeth

They snap for your neck and upset you for a moment

Before the poison does its due.

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