Irresolute

December 29, 2008 at 6:14 pm (Dominic Alapat, Poetry)

 

The buildings outside

were not even stationary.

It was all in my mind.

A whirlwind would be

a nice word from some

fancy-dress show in my

school. The stage’s wood

floorboards, the people

out on the street here,

the shops, all a whirlwind

of thought, a dizziness,

an intoxication, before

this too fizzles into

nothing.

 

– Dominic Alapat

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