Sunday, January 22, 2012

Swallowing meat

Klimt’s girl has been with me for years
I realized I drew my grandfather
In a uniform
I leave behind what I do not tear apart
Traces in rooms keeping out the rain
I made some coffee and handed it over
Remembering wine and music
We share a table but we don’t share the fruit
I left behind an open bottle
Drowned some flies
Took a sip with closed eyes
And decided to stop
Swallowing meat