He was lying there
mouldering on his lean bed
in a distinguished shiftlessness.
His loins burning
in the scouring and clunging sheets.
His rancid body
acted a foretaste
of the styled death.
The mattress was trying
a deep and airy impression
beyond all horror.
The set of springs
only had the resistance
of sagging badly.
The space under his bed;
the metaphor of his will
to sink deep,
profound as deep can be.
In aversion of his courage
to turn on his better side,
the air that surrounded him
was merely capable
to move to a gesture
and he could scarcely
grin a few moans.
…\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\'till the twilight, in a compassionate ray
shined upon his exhausted countenance
and he was waking slowly with the infernal musty taste
of the damned\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\' forgotten no man\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\'s lands in his mouth.
Bovenstaande was bij lange na niet slecht om een beetje te liggen fermenteren. Next...\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\'The act upon being alive\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\' of iets in dien aard...
reputatie
als lezer
Status: populariteit: Ontvangen reacties: geen reacties
als dichter
Status: populariteit: Ontvangen reacties: 5928
als schrijver
Status: populariteit: Ontvangen reacties: 1538