10.
I will laugh to
her. An
admirable
programme.
Unfortunately it
can’t be
carried out. One
keeps
on emerging from
a phase,
but it always
recurs. Round
and round.
Everything repeats,
the vast
emptiness timer after
time. The first
plunge of the knife
into the flesh
again and again.
Didn’t the eagle
find a fresh liver
to tear in
Prometheus every time
it dined?
From Observations (a work in progress)
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