Nov. 9th

Raining now. Had a short chat with bro. He’s spent and down. So did I. Yet I determined not to give in to ups and downs. I could be stressed out, but not broken down. A human being after alls need meaning. M-RTW seems almost impossible now. But now I’ll slug it out down the road. If you’re sleepy, sleep. The only thing I can tell myself in hard times after all of those things this year. [Saw a reciting of the poem.]

Grief Thief Of Time

By Dylan Thomas
Grief thief of time crawls off,
The moon-drawn grave, with the seafaring years,
The knave of pain steals off
The sea-halved faith that blew time to his knees,
The old forget the cries,
Lean time on tide and times the wind stood rough,
Call back the castaways
Riding the sea light on a sunken path,
The old forget the grief,
Hack of the cough, the hanging albatross,
Cast back the bone of youth
And salt-eyed stumble bedward where she lies
Who tossed the high tide in a time of stories
And timelessly lies loving with the thief.

Now Jack my fathers let the time-faced crook,
Death flashing from his sleeve,
With swag of bubbles in a seedy sack
Sneak down the stallion grave,
Bull’s-eye the outlaw through a eunuch crack
And free the twin-boxed grief,
No silver whistles chase him down the weeks’
Dayed peaks to day to death,
These stolen bubbles have the bites of snakes
And the undead eye-teeth,
No third eye probe into a rainbow’s sex
That bridged the human halves,
All shall remain and on the graveward gulf
Shape with my fathers’ thieves.

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