Thursday, April 06, 2023

the beggar, with his hands cut off

 


in the sunlight taking

pictures of falling water


in the moment

worried about the future

and denying the past

and none of us born w/ the

knowledge that all words

are empty gestures

 

the answers to every question

about worth and about

value given only in

terms of money

 

the failure that comes from

having none of it

 

children at the front door

with eyes full of hope and

empty hands or the ones

left dying in the street

 

man w/ a gun aims it at

your heart, says help them and

he’ll shoot

 

is saving just one any

better than

saving none at all?

 

has the sky ever been so

perfectly blue as it was on

the last day of your life?

 

it’s not the absence of joy or

the absence of beauty that

brings you here, but

the abundance


the transience

 

the knowledge that you have

thrown away more

than you will ever get back






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