Balking
Is it really brief ease
that we want
or complete erasure?
Do weary minds desire
merely a lullaby
or total annulment,
but fearing finality,
balk,
and choose
impermanent pauses
instead?
This blog is updated irregularly and has nothing to do with the poet's output. The poet is actually disturbingly prolific. He writes about 5 poems per day. The pages are everywhere, even stacked in the bathtub.