"year of the horse"
friend in the miles frozen
frabjous lobe of seeming
one & a half Hesper
hoarse osprey the fierce word
lumbers across lattice
alert to swart rumblings
the loom trembles traincross
its trestle graffiti'd
& splurge splinters glumly
to splay inner gimbals
true as trek's gleanings
traduced in vast deserts
“The reverse of melancholy is always irony.”
— W. G. Sebald (interview, 1998) via @yoonkim.bsky.social
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