Perhaps it's too late now
to turn around in failure;
to turn around in failure;
perhaps no providence
but the one we make in words.
So we run on
like proverbs,
like a newspaper horoscope,
like Ecclesiastes did—
each last breath,
which once was all life,
presently a memory—
eventually abandoned.
when someone says repetition?
Exercise regimens.
(You can't sprint a marathon.)
Amateur hour.
No big loss.
A knock at the door.
A lack.
