In a Sinopese jar

Every youth, seasick him says,
is a sophist whose every word is dogma.
Rimbaud solicits his friends
to climb from the waters and bowl him over.
The dumps, they repopulate,
every youth cracks the alembic
of centuries, how they hoist and close,
how they taunt the better among them.
What frantic huffing doesn’t do
feeble pleasures will. But you
must remember that cynics only bark.
Let the books, seasick him says,
race your thoughts so you don’t have to.

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~ by Jeremy on May 19, 2013.

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