( me / via )
"Let us leave this city with its sinister vain moan,
This gigantic city that never shuts its eyelids"
"I'd spent twenty years in the thick subterrain of my conclusions about writing; carving smart highly praised little poems from wooden shoes in a muddy little village called What We Know For Sure About Art.
How had this village, once an empire, now no more than a few muddy streets dark with the scent of rain and straw, so captivated me?" --Joe Ahearn via
"You were so small in my hands
no shrapnel could hit you,
but the dust and smoke of the bomb
rushed into your lungs.
No need for any gauze.
They just closed your eyes.
No need for any shroud.
You were already
in your swaddle blanket."
--@MosabAbuToha
No comments:
Post a Comment