Bentham’s Mistake
That is how I was haunted.
Even Kantians can enjoy jokes:
A little deceit will not lead us astray.
We might choose to contain it,
Take our pleasures where we may,
Hold back and so fall into it,
Playful, flirting with our selves:
All hands under black silk,
A laughing distance.
This does not have to be
Suicide. Please play along.
The Purpled Dusk
There is a gentle burning
In my long dark bones,
A quiet smile under my ribs.
You are gone,
And here is your replacement.
Peat and oak are singing,
Singing their long sad song
Of evenings murmured in the purpled dusk.
I think I might have forgotten
Who it is you are anyway.
1 comment:
However all Kantians are sufficiently joyless.
(hides)
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