my hair has paled, my lips a rosy hue
musica, lingua franca
a waifish Jane Birkin, abundant Adele.
Jittered, jolted,
trying to catch up with success and stammer,
my stroll is clipped staccato
I recall that harmed time,
you were stalled in Prague:
I cawed, "Crow, my crow,"
but you were too unilingual to know
that I was calling
for Kafka on the shore.
No comments:
Post a Comment