I roam the whole universe from here. - Han-shan
11.
Kafka – head throbbing, hand
scratching away, ten hours –
scratching life to paper – writes
himself straight through to dawn
& death & a wash of bodies,
relentless, brutal in the doing,
over the bridge, finds
his word, puts down his pen
Prague, 22-23 September 1912
Posted by sam of the ten thousand things @ 3:46 PM
We make a harvest of loneliness and desiring in the blank wasteland of the cosmos. - Jack Gilbert
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