J. writes
I read poetry.
It remembers the possibility of a living which is not far,
but it’ s not my life.
I quit reading.
Already I am in the field,
a field, which I thinkĀ to look at from outside,
but I am alreading inside.
I read poetry.
It remembers the possibility of a living which is not far,
but it’ s not my life.
I quit reading.
Already I am in the field,
a field, which I thinkĀ to look at from outside,
but I am alreading inside.