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■ I know what you're thinking, father
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The mirrors
these frozen waters of the real are the amused and full of sarcasm witnesses of our perpetual change we are looking involuntarily every one of us in our own mirror today tomorrow over a hundred years and we don’t notice the flat nose the slanting brow the blunt and hairy face we don’t know that our walking is shambling and hunched we don’t know that we look our fellows for louses in the thick fur soiled with sentiments which cover their bodies we are wistfully glancing at the stars while every tree irresistibly attracts us and we laugh but even worse is the fact that every attempt of speaking degenerates into grimaces twists buffooneries imitations and even less than this but the imitations of some long ago lost imitations at dawn I’ll leave shrieking hunched to look for a cave to sleep and to notch my obsessions.
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