Wednesday, October 13, 2010

Gelflugelte Worte

Oxen of the Sun 411

All Graces are alleged
our complaints hover over the streets
over the dust we embrace
inhaling happiness and acceptance
our mortality is interesting because it cannot be answered
we are born animals of hideous intervention
we are accountable to our devices
we are genuinely good at light
and bad at the future
our science limited to images of complaint
we allow spectacles to pass in the streets
without prophesy
without sound
our problems are suspended in neglected statues
we are moved to repeat phenomena
we are music
silent, peculiar
blinking, we prove the existence of the sun.

No comments: