Invincible Summer |||

Loss and damage

I know of no thought so burdensome one cannot walk away from it

Søren Kierkagaard, letter to Jetta

I have good days
this isn’t one of them

One has to steel oneself
against melancholy and ruin

Mahler, yes, Weltschmerz, majesty
Still the minor key

Guarding our positions
A system we did not choose

There’s work of course
As if it were ever possible
to do one’s real work
I have to steal my time.

If not work, walk
“If one just keeps on walking 
everything will be all right.”
The walk-strife balance

Still the homeless crouch
It beggars belief how cruel
we have to be for capitalism to work
How we must steal past the beggars

steel ourselves with stories
the good, the idle poor

steel our hearts away