Plato and dust
On new year’s eve he lets the ancient sunshine in to dust beloved shelves. He sits beside the window drinking tea and watches specks of dust transform from books to […]
Category Archives: the aged librarian
The magi left behind
He had heard about a star but had drawn the blinds, cause only candle lights could kiss the pages of his precious books. The aged librarian is deaf to every […]
Untitled (waiting for metaphors)
The aged librarian collects ideals: he’s saving fragments, bulbs and seeds of scribbled shorthand, notes and antidotes. He shuffles words and stanzas tries to set them juxtaposed against his memory […]
Destruction of Atlantis
The aged librarian cannot reach the upper shelves where Plato hides. For yet a while his twilight lips knows by heart each metaphor, each parable. He can still sense Atlantis, […]
Lacerations
The words that lacerated sentenced sentences, inked on parchment from the ancient laws are left to be deciphered later in the antechamber behind the door of this, your dusty crypt. […]
