Here, Hear Here

Here are the doldrums.

Here is sickness and listlessness.

Here is shadow, hear the shadow.

Here is formlessness, hear the formlessness.

Here the auger of an augury bores a hole—

into darkness. Hear it!

Here the quicksand swallows.

Hear the strangled cries.

Hear here.

Hear.

Here you hold on and endure.

Here.

What I’m Reading:

“There aren’t any rules. I can no longer read other writers. I am a loner. But I borrow from others in my spaces of nil.”

— Charles Bukowski / On Writing