TRIPLEFT

he was having visions

the visions were never the same

he would change

the visions would change

he existed without visions

the visions did not exist without him

the visions would have to begin with him

would he begin with visions

in a vision he was alone

would he begin without visions

those eyes are not eyes

only sleep

-

his poetry was dying

he blamed it on life

life had more power than poetry

the women there are not muses

they are a reason to not commit suicide

before they become the only reason to commit suicide

then they give you the poetry you crave

when you are wild enough to miss its meaning

the open umbrellas

at your wake

are held by them

-

his real violence

was never experienced

but it had language

far beyond the means of violence

it grew

like teeth grow

before you remember them

then rot

or become very expensive