The past has come apart
events are vagueing
the future is inexploitable
the present pain.
Not even pain has that precision
with which it struck in youth-time
More like moth
eroding internal organs
hanging or falling down
in a spoiled closet
Does your mirror Bedevil you
or is the impossible
possible to senility
enabling the erstwhile agile
narrow silhouette of self
to hold in huge reserve
this excessive incognito
of a Bulbous stranger
only to be exorcised by death
Dilation has entirely eliminated
your long reality.
Mina Loy
July 12th
1984