dream life of every persistent illusion
the smell of old knowledge and imposture,
not unreal memories are less certain,
callus adventures left in the fingers and soul.
ocean
The room is filled with absences,
of books which he could not give away and languishing
as tears choked on dust as time
not return.
Each object hides a surprise, land
some hidden pleasure,
the sea life, desert
the anchor chair abandoned.
The ocean room
draining off loneliness by moisture and salt cracks, leaves
imagine an epic, but it is a howl
complainant wolf of the sea.
Image: Room of the ocean, Urban Lugris
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