Gopa B. Ceaser Each morning I leave behind an old face from a third-floor window, trailing me leaving my alley all i could do is walk slowly… Each lunch-break (provided) makes me think of an old face on a third-floor window, mourning Eliotian eterized afternoons, “even a crow is scarce…” Each evening, my long walks …
When Eliot leads, You must follow
When I first came, Everything was quiet and calm. Unknown to many Withdrawn from even more, I trudged my terribly scrawny physique, Suddenly made bloated with pretensions. The time quickened its pace, In a whirlwind In an interminable indifference To ambient color. A yellow patina of lichen Is varnished on it. On the mind, the …