Wednesday, September 7, 2011

Alred Brendel


5
.
Demons
scarcely distinguishable from gods
play on the furrows of our souls
like instrumentalists
painfully but with panache
When they squeeze us
we whine
like dogs craving to get out
to bark at the dark
Dog-like
we’d love to bite them
our tormentors
only to find ourselves
biting our own tongues

No comments: