Senza di Te

Arlene Ang
lien@mnl.sequel.net
1995 



here
a cup of black coffee
long gone cold
sits brooding over
incoherent Italian verbs
in the noise
which makes my solitude

I watch them plunge
one by one
into the sullen pool
these dark Italian verbs
of my own conjugation
which splash about
as if in pain

and I die
from every drop
which steals from me
all meaning of time

here
in this void
this strange solitude
where I have my cup
my paper and pen
myself

and nothing more

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Updated Thursday, 04-Mar-2004 14:58:27 PST