680 (courage, the french say)

i believed in words and a weak man it left me

i believed in life

in others - good people

today i am broken

alone

ageing and gaining weight

abusing myself

and not even drinking

beauty reappears

and then disappears - i no longer know anything

least that i will be well

there never was a well, never an objective, just a delusion

dumb people, thick, incompetent - worse - weak men and their women

because when women break they submit themselves and police this failure

there is a bridge now gone a gap one cannot even see across

somewhere a reconciliation must happen

the death of poetry

and then there is nothing