“But ha! ha! ha! full well is me
For I am now at liberty”
(Thomas Wyatt)



far away
lost in her powers

lonely – I keep bustling and
the lance-woman slaps me
kills me and simply takes off

all alone sunk into my powers

water-dresses have burst through
the eye-lashes but she’s not gold
she’s an absent-minded stone
a spotless clock

awfully drunk gasping upwards
and not a single power
to tie the onion-steed to the rocks

the fiery moon
among shadowy bamboos