Nearby, in the gutter,

common wisdoms

still wriggling.”

–Paul Celan



The remains of old ideas,

ripe with anger, are

so deeply embedded

one breaks bones

only to find dust,

instead of marrow.


They raise their heads,

and laugh righteously

at their bitter lies.

Always, they wait nearby—

truncheons polished,

jackboots shined;

While common wisdoms

smile like the recent dead.


(April 24, 2018)

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