nothing is true

Languor (redux)

His word, his breath,
Are merely synecdoche —

Nothing is true in the true
Sense of the word.

He drifts on the Lethe,
Intoxicated by water that transforms —
A trip into languor —
And never sets foot on the other shore.

image: national weather service

What I’m Reading:

“The syndrome known as life is too diffuse to admit of palliation. For every symptom that is eased, another is made worse.”

— Samuel Beckett / Murphy

About istsfor manity

i'm a truncated word-person looking for an assemblage of extracted teeth in a tent full of mosquitoes (and currently writing a novel without writing a novel word) and pulling nothing but the difficult out of the top hat while the bunny munches grass in the hallway. you might say: i’m thee asynchronous voice over in search of a film....
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