— w.h. auden in horae canonicae
an awesome poem about berlin by my friend sandie
View from the trains
I’m no longer impressed with crazy people and neither are you.
Berlin, your name like a stately carousel, a big-top tent.
You’re a toad with a back full of holes and inside each hole is a full egg
and we’re all about to tear out of them. I want to crawl from your back, again,
and flop dripping up the subway steps above the canal whose
ripples turn the round sunlight into a peach pit. We’re not dying yet,
our horizon is full of construction cranes and disco balls.
Every week we slip out of your back and ride the trains,
the take a swig and spit it out trains, the hammered dulcimer trains.
You are poor and you have fire and we all think we are you.
— don delillo in libra
"stop interpreting everything y’all, just go with the flow" - susan sontag in this essay,