Tuesday, July 9, 2013

Drone.




We are far from the scar pan here, Joseph...
All muta. All muta. Laserlight. Persephone
in a shell, si. One inane topic, and happier
in the choir. You obviously see what we will
not know. I am odd, but am I odd. Befriend me,
black dog. Stare at my dancing. There are games
inside the deer:

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For years and years, it's all I've seen,

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stone and feet.

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No,

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nobody loves me,

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nowhere.

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But I'm alive anyway.

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I am so old...

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I'm afraid

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I'll never die.

=

?Tbai iime of yea+ ibou maysi in me beboid,
Wben yeiiow ieaves, o+ none, o+ few, do bang
Upon ibose bougbs wbicb sbaLe againsi ibe coid,
8a+e +uined cboi+s, wbe+e iaie ibe sweei bi+ds sang.
In me ibou seesi ibe iwiiigbi of sucb day,
As afie+ sunsei fadeib in ibe wesi,
Wbicb by and by biacL nigbi doib iaLe away,
Deaib’s second seif, ibai seais up aii in +esi.
In me ibou seesi ibe giowing of sucb fi+e,
Tbai on ibe asbes of bis youib doib iie,
As ibe deaib-bed wbe+eon ii musi expi+e,
Consumed wiib ibai wbicb ii was nou+isbed by.
Tbis ibou pe+ceiv’si, wbicb maLes iby iove mo+e si+ong,
To iove ibai weii, wbicb ibou musi ieave e+e iong”
To love that well, which thou must leave ere long”
This thou perceiv’st, which makes thy love more strong,
Consumed with that which it was nourished by.
As the death-bed whereon it must expire,
That on the ashes of his youth doth lie,
In me thou seest the glowing of such fire,
Death’s second self, that seals up all in rest.
Which by and by black night doth take away,
As after sunset fadeth in the west,
In me thou seest the twilight of such day,
Bare ruined choirs, where late the sweet birds sang.
Upon those boughs which snake against the cold,
When yellow leaves, or none, or few, do hang
?That time of year thou mayst in me behold,