Sunday, October 31, 2010
October 31, 2010
The books
sat here
and there.
In stacks
of twos
and threes,
Unread
and dusted
in dusts.
The girl slumped
in her chair
didn't want them.
She wanted nothing,
asked for nothing,
got nothing.
Don't be the girl
slumped in her chair.
Flesh rots faster
than fiber.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
Posts
2 comments:
I think about this often. My flesh rots faster than my books, and so many other things. This knowledge, I think, fills some people with rage. But it makes others see how amazingly precious life is.
Excellent use of scene as symbol. Clever stuff.
Post a Comment