FRAG 124

"The most beautiful order
[says Heraclitus] is a heap of
sweepings, piled up at random."

The silencings, the whimpers,

and the cries. The cries.


speak softly,

Watchman of the night, but speak.


the tempos of our times, the times

arise again. The rhymes.


speak slowly,

Watchman of the night, but speak.


the halting of my mournful drone

out of tune. Alone?


speak with abandon,

Watchman of the night, but speak.


mute monsters thrive, come alive

let alone. Alone.


speak wantonly,

Watchman of the night, but speak.


jade and luxuriant whispers of opulence

but only opals. Only opals.


speak brazen,

Watchman of the night, but speak.



open proud power howls,

only open howls. Only open.


the openings, the breathings deep,

the loud cries. The cries.




Gloom