I always feel as if I’m desperate.
Life goes so slowly,
It never seems to do
I guess its incompatible;
It goes on so it has
Continuity but nothing
Ever seems to go together.
Elliot tells us of his insubstantial
Days of chores and mindless tasks;
We hope to see some change
But all we have is familiarity.
Life undulates through my hands sensuously
But never seems to escape the lamp.