Tramontana

Tramontana

The sea’s purple at Piraeus
8 September 1994
To Acedia
ID’s (fragment)
Reason
When I can escape my words no longer
A man eats an apple in the park
When I walk to the sea

Do not doubt that reason,
that reason, that reason, that reason.
A fly walks from the edge
to the centre of the table top
and back again, follows a few centimeters
of the side, enters the emptiness
of the pale white again, tries again
what I don’t know and then takes off.

AuthorErik Lindner
2018-08-21T17:22:45+00:00 February 23rd, 2013|Categories: Poetry, Blesok no. 88|0 Comments