My friend when you go away
Into a medical emergency
An emergency of how living
Is practiced I miss you
I feel I am missing out
On my own life the consequences
Of which a building never
Materializing would make it true
Because the building is never
Built it remains a proposal
Or plan about how prosody
Lifts the body outside itself
How ekstasis cures
Your books remain to be written
Because the possible
Doesn’t end with words.
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2 comments:
This poem is so beautiful Thom and I am grateful for its presence. I miss you both.
Dear Thom,
I am so happy you wrote this. It makes me miss you, too, even though, and because, we hardly know each other.
Yours,
Kythe
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